Force of Habit
by Raz
Summary: Schwarz's 5th member, the most highly feared assassin ever has been caught by Kritiker and his mind has been wiped. Now Ran must cope with the result - Yohji. RanxYohji. COMPLETE
1. Chapter One

Force of Habit: Part One

Author's Note: Okay disclaimers coming up. 1) None of the boys or anything Weiss related is mine, I am simply borrowing them for my own amusement. 2) As my amusement tends towards the perverse/sick side of heath, be wary that this will contain swearing (if assassins can't use bad language, then who can?), violence (assassins, duh), and probably a good whack of yaoi courtesy of my inner 'bugger the pretty boy' hentai demon and muse. So it may just be a PG-13 at the moment, but the rating may change (and probably will with the plans I've got for the boys ;P ) Oh and as this is my first crack at this, be sure to review and let me know what you think.

"It's four thirty in the morning so there had better be a damn good explanation for this phone call."

"Your little project's finished."

"What?"

"You heard. I'm finished with your little flight of fancy, now send someone over to pick him up."

"You're sure the treatment will hold?"

"Are you doubting the quality of my work? Of course it will hold. Now get the fucker out of my sight."

"And where exactly do you propose we move Void to?"

"Damned if I care. Ditch him in some deserted alleyway or something. He's not my responsibility anymore."

"And have him picked up by agents within the half hour to undo everything we've done?"

"Look, I've just told you. My job is finished, as is any duty I have towards your patient. Get him out, where you put him is your problem."

"That's not a very professional attitude, Fujimiya."

"Neither was not shooting that piece of shit when you had the chance."

"That's a nasty mouth you've got on you. Hardly a professional bedside manner now, is it?"

"Alive, Void's a threat. You should have killed him, _I _should have goddamned killed him."

"Do you really doubt your work that much? Just a few moments ago you sounded most confident in your efforts."

"…"

"Allowing our emotions to get the better of us? That's most unlike you."

"I want him out of my sight."

"That can't happen."

"_What?_"

"We need to be certain that you succeeded. For that we need to keep an eye on him, and we need to keep him somewhere safe."

"I still don't see why you can't get someone else to do that."

"Because you're the one responsible for this … uh … reprogramming if you will. You, therefore, will be the first to notice should something go wrong and the most qualified to deal with any problems."

"Here's an idea to deal with any problems; he starts reverting, you put a bullet in his head."

"And undo all your hard work? Where is your professional pride? No, he stays with you. You will watch him, monitor him and ensure your handiwork doesn't start to unravel. When it's clear he's adapted psychologically to the changes you've forced into him, then we'll move him as you wanted."

"I never agreed to this. This was never mentioned. You just told me to wipe his mind and put something else in. Aftercare was not included in the price."

"Then we'll pay you more. Money is not a problem for us; you should know that. And money would undoubtedly help cover those medical bills for your sister, wouldn't they?"

"…Damn you."

"I'll pretend that was a thank you, but next time my hearing won't be so lax. Watch your mouth."

"…"

"Fine. This is how it will work. He believes he is now…?"

"Kudou Yohji."

"Fine, so when he wakes up, you will give him no reason to doubt that information. You will re-enforce whatever rubbish you put inside his head until it's clear the personality has held. By that I mean through your behaviour and attitude towards him. You continue to act in this manner and he'll know something is up. He'll shrug off your programming and then you'll be alone with a very dangerous, very pissed off killer. Have I made myself clear?"

"…"

"I said; have I made myself clear?"

"Perfectly."

"Glad to hear it. The money we promised for the task is already in your bank account; we'll add more money when you need it. Simply lodge a request with my associate Manx; she'll have been briefed to approve any payouts. And remember, his former employers will be looking for him, so try to keep your heads down."

"Hn."

The warm sunlight played on his closed eyelids, comforting, yet undeniably pulling him into wakefulness. He felt himself slowly becoming more aware of his immediate surroundings, the stiffness of his body and the cool, crisp cotton sheets that he both lay on and was covered by. He shifted slightly, as much as his sluggish body allowed and heard the soft rustling noise as the sheets drifted over him. Besides that, he could hear a vague buzz of background noise. He listened intently and gradually was able to distinguish the beep of monitors, a low hum that had to be air conditioning and even fainter birdsong.

He paused, trying to recall where he was, but found everything seemed blank in his mind. He could remember his name, Kudou Yohji, but nothing else seemed familiar or recognisable. In an effort to prompt some vague notion of what was going on, Yohji opened his eyes.

Sterile white walls and ceiling, a functional yet uncomfortable looking chair in the corner, bland white blinds across the window and a vast array of flashing and beeping monitors, most of which had various wires and leads feeding into his body. Yohji groaned. A hospital and he couldn't remember what he was doing here? Definitely not a good sign.

Footsteps were approaching his room, a firm and definite tread that indicated either heavy boots or more probably a male. From the frequency of the footfalls, he was walking at quite a pace. Then the footsteps stopped outside his door. Yohji watched the steel handle expectantly, but it gave no indication of turning, his would-be visitor appeared to be doing nothing more than simply standing outside his room. He heard what could have been a sigh and a moment later the handle began to turn as the door was opened.

A young man stepped into the room and closed the door behind him without so much as a glance in Yohji's direction. Obviously not expecting a conscious patient, Yohji mused as he took the opportunity to study the back of the stranger, which was all that was visible from this angle.

A white coat covered much of the slender body, indicating a member of the medical staff, while heavy, buckled black boots seemed to lead Yohji towards the conclusion that the newcomer was a medical student or newly qualified and therefore reasonably young. A shock of vibrant blood-red hair brushed the back of the white collar in an almost caressing manner as the man turned back to face the room and noticed that the patient was sitting up in bed and watching him with open interest.

Violet eyes widened in momentary shock before narrowing into an icy glare. Any other emotion was quickly hidden on a face that was breathtakingly beautiful, high sculpted cheekbones and a slim, straight nose, with an almost porcelain complexion. A lone gold earring dangled from one ear, almost obscured by eartails. Yohji waited for some comment, a random greeting, but none came. The man simply continued to stare at him with that unfathomable expression.

Beginning to feel somewhat uncomfortable under that piercing stare, Yohji shifted nervously and tried his most charming smile on his visitor. "Hi, are you here to tell me what happened to me?" The smile seemed to have no effect on the redhead, who could have been a statue for all the response Yohji was getting. Yohji felt an ache in his cheeks, it seemed the muscles were unused to holding a smile. He frowned slightly instead, just how long had he been lying in this bed for him to be unable to hold a smile for more than a few moments?

The smile might have had no effect, but the vague frown on Yohji's features seemed to stir the lab-coated man into action. Shaking his head briefly, he closed his eyes and took a slow breath in. As he exhaled, he reopened his eyes. "So," he commented, in a surprisingly low voice. "You're awake. I wasn't expecting you to have recovered consciousness so quickly."

Yohji's frowned deepened. "Quickly? It feels like I've been out for months."

The redhead paused for a moment to regard Yohji with another enigmatic purple stare. "You were in an accident," he said finally. "There was serious head trauma. We thought you would be unconscious for several more months."

Yohji's hands flew up to his head, where they buried in strands of long soft hair and bandages. "Accident? Is that why I can't remember anything?"

A finely shaped eyebrow arched. "Nothing at all?"

Yohji shook his head miserably. "I remember my name, nothing else." The enormity of what he was saying suddenly sunk in and he felt his breath hitch in his throat. He really couldn't remember a thing, not a goddamned thing. Where he lived, what he did for a living, how old he was, _what he looked like_ … it was all a blank. Yohji let his head fall forward into his hands, feeling the brush of hair against his fingers. "Shit, I don't even know who I am. I mean, I can remember my name, but what's in a name?" Hysteria began to well up from somewhere inside as Yohji was torn between laughing at the absurdity of the situation or crying at the sheer hopelessness of it all.

Footsteps crossed the room quickly as the stranger cautiously sat down on the edge of Yohji's bed. Surprised, Yohji looked up to find that breathtaking face only inches away from his own. The redhead suddenly became aware of his close proximity to the shell-shocked patient, for he quickly pulled away and turned his attention to the cluttered nightstand. Long, elegant fingers rummaged through the medical items and other assorted paraphernalia before closing on a small vanity mirror which he passed to Yohji. "Here, maybe this will help."

Almost unable to look away from those striking eyes, Yohji nodded dumbly as his fingers closed around the mirror, brushing against the other man's in the process. The contact caused a fluttering warmth somewhere in the region of Yohji's stomach, but the stranger hurriedly drew his hand away, as if appalled to have made the slightest contact with Yohji. Virtually leaping off the bed in his haste to get away from the confused patient sitting on the bed, the redhead backed away, fighting to keep his emotion from showing too clearly in his face. "Excuse me, I have other patients to check on," the redhead said curtly as he swiftly left the room, managing to remain graceful even in his desperation to escape.

Yohji stared after the redhead in shock, unable to figure out just what had caused such an extreme reaction in a man who had seemed so cold and remote. He had seemed ill at ease from the moment he had come in, Yohji reflected, and reluctant to look at him, but it had been the unintentional physical contact which had proved the last straw for the redhead. Yohji felt his stomach flip again, but this time in fear. The man had said Yohji had been in a serious accident with head trauma, what if he was more badly injured than he had assumed? What if the reason why his face had felt so stiff and sore when he had smiled was because he'd been disfigured? Yohji felt his fingers tighten around the mirror as he contemplated the idea. What if he was hideously ugly? That would explain the redhead's behaviour, but could he bear to look at himself? Discarding the mirror temporarily, Yohji brought his hands up to his face. Both of them seemed fine and unscarred, long, slim fingers with tanned skin, but heavily calloused. Yohji inspected them closer; maybe he played the guitar or something - that would explain those marks and grooves. Continuing to draw them closer, Yohji let his fingers ghost carefully over his face, feeling for stitches or twisted Frankenstein style scars that would indeed indicate severe facial deformity. The sensitive fingertips found no such thing, running over smooth, soft skin and what felt like a perfectly normal nose, chin and brow. Feeling slightly reassured by this tactile assessment, Yohji reached once again for the mirror and this time angled it before him so he could see himself clearly.

An attractive man in his twenties stared back at him through relieved green eyes. Messy strands of wavy honey blond hair poked through the thick bandages wrapped around his head and threatened to fall over his face had they been unhindered by the white swathes. Yohji inspected his features carefully. He wasn't ugly, thank god. Maybe he wasn't an exquisite beauty like that flustered redhead, but he was pretty damn hot. Not the sort of guy who ever had any problem picking up the ladies. Yohji let the mirror drop from his fingers and lay back in the bed, closing his eyes. Although knowing that he wasn't repulsive to look at was a weight off of his mind, Yohji couldn't help but wonder just what had sent the redhead running in such a panic.

Ran sank down onto a bench next to the coffee machine and dropped his head into his hands. How did Kritiker think he'd be able to pull this off? If Kudoh didn't think something was up by now, then all the tampering in his psyche must have brain-damaged the sadistic bastard. Fisting his hands between strands of crimson hair, Ran pulled at them in frustration. Of course his own idiotic behaviour wouldn't have helped matters at all. It had been the sight of that cold robotic killer smiling up at him so warmly that had shocked him. In all of Kritiker and Ran's encounters with Void, the man had never smiled. He was a block of ice, cold and utterly emotionless. Ran just hadn't expected the man so have seemed so damn … well, _human_. It had made him drop his guard, almost treat him like any other patient. He had actually sat next to Void, shown some concern over a serial killer, had revealed weakness in front of that man who now seemed to believe he was Kudoh Yohji. Then as he had passed the mirror to the distressed man, Ran had accidentally brushed his fingers against Kudoh's. That fleeting moment had sent him running from the room in panic. The thought of those hands, those hands that had been so covered in the blood of his friends and colleagues, that even indirectly were responsible for his sister's silent and unmoving form, touching his had been more than he could take. And they had been _warm_. How could they be warm when he had done all those unspeakable crimes? How could the man look so lost and helpless when he had been such a monster?

With a deep sigh, Ran slowly lowered his hands back to his lap as he forced himself to calm down and regain some control. Despite his apparent arrogance while on the phone to Birman, Ran had held deep doubts over the chances of success in the psychological reprogramming Kritiker had ordered him to perform. Sure, he had felt confident enough that he had successfully blocked and wiped all of Void's past as a killer and member of the deadly assassin group, Schwarz, but the new personality Ran had tried to replace the Void persona with had been sketchy at best. Ran wasn't good at emotions and understanding people. He was shy and fairly introverted, so when Kritiker had demanded an outgoing, sociable persona for the new Kudoh, Ran had been out of his depth. He had walked into that room expecting a catatonic vegetable or blank puppet, but instead had found a man that seemed confused, worried and in need of reassurance and … normal. Almost more normal than Ran. And that normal man was probably sitting in his room scared of Ran's bizarre behaviour and getting increasingly suspicious. Birman had been very clear on the phone, Ran had to reinforce the new persona over the next few months to ensure it held. That meant treating Kudoh as though he was simply the victim of a serious accident and not a plague victim or highly dangerous and crazed lunatic. Wearily, Ran rubbed his hands over his face and rose to his feet once more. He had to go back in there and try to undo the damage he had wreaked earlier.

But first there was someone else he had to see. Pausing slightly outside a door that looked no different to the others that lined the colourless corridors, Ran knocked softly before opening the door. The knocking was unnecessary of course, but it was force of habit more than anything else. Aya had always gotten so angry when Ran entered her room without knocking that even now when she probably wasn't even aware of it, he couldn't stop himself from performing the action. Ran made his way through the mass of flowers that filled Aya's room and sat down on the chair beside her bed, reaching out to take her smaller hand within his own. He squeezed it softly. "Good morning Aya," he murmured. "Though really I should say 'good afternoon'. Sorry I'm late today, but I had another patient to visit. Remember the people I work for, the ones who are helping me pay for you to get better? Well they want me to look after someone else, someone who doesn't know who he is. I have to help him find that out, but don't worry, I'll still come and see you." Ran squeezed Aya's hand again before leaning over to brush a few dark strands off her face with his other hand. "I always manage to come and see you, don't I?"

Falling briefly silent, Ran glanced around the room, at the colourful array of exotic flowers and vivid blooms. Kudoh's room had been depressingly stark, he reflected. Perhaps flowers might be an idea; after all, that was what normal people received when they were in hospital. It was only assassins who had to wake up in cold and sterile rooms. Ran turned back to his sister's comatose form and smiled softly at her. "I've got to go now, Aya, but I'll be back soon. Promise."

Yohji opened his eyes blearily to a blur of red and white that quickly resolved itself into the form of the man from earlier. He was standing by Yohji's bedside table and arranging a large display of colourful flowers. Yohji watched the flowers be manipulated expertly into a stylish display before turned his attention to the man's face, which bore an expression of intense concentration. "So, do you bring flowers to all the patients, or am I just special?"

The man started badly in surprise, and nearly knocked the vase of blooms over, catching it with superb reflexes. He spun to face Yohji and stared at the man with a similar expression of shock to earlier. Yohji rolled his eyes and waved a hand lazily at the redhead. "Geez, sorry. All I seem to be doing today is scaring the shit out of you."

The man appeared to collect himself. "That does seem to be the case." He glanced over at the flowers and then back at the blond that was watching him curiously. "Your room looked more than a little bare, so I thought some flowers might add colour and give you something other than the wall to look at."

Yohji grinned. "Aw, I'm touched, but you didn't have to." A wicked idea occurred to him and he felt his smile become more of a smirk. "Say, you're not someone I knew from before the accident, are you? And are trying to suck up to me while I still can't remember that you stole my girlfriend or something?"

Another strange look was his response as the redhead cleared his throat and sat down by the bed. "I simply work here. You had no I.D on you when you were brought in, so we have no way of letting your friends and family know that you're here.  So you probably won't be getting overwhelmed with flowers and chocolates anytime soon."

Yohji sighed. "Thanks for the warning." He glanced over at the flowers then at the man who still seemed slightly uneasy. "You still haven't told me your name, you know."

The man studied his features with veiled purple eyes. "It's Fujimiya."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Kudoh Yohji, but just call me Yohji. It'll be easier for me to remember." Fujimiya made no response to the joke and Yohji rolled his eyes again. "Is everyone here as uptight as you?"

"Not everyone."

Yohji grinned and leaned closer to the redhead, noting that his purple eyes flared slightly at the movement before narrowing again. "Say, if that's the case, do you think you could direct some of the cute nurses in here? I could kill for a sponge bath."

Fujimiya seemed to pause for a moment, before looking away from the green-eyed man. "Shameless flirt."

Yohji nodded, his grin widening despite the ache in his cheeks. "It would appear so." He dropped the smile; it seemed too much effort to hold it at the moment and collapsed back in the bed. "Hey, can I ask you something important?"

"Of course, Kudoh-san."

"I already told you, it's Yohji. Anyway, if I can't remember anything and no one claims to know me, how do you know I have any money?" The blond turned to catch the redhead's eyes, his own green gaze full of worry. "I mean, I don't know if I have insurance, or even a job. How am I meant to pay for this?"

Fujimiya considered the question. "Your memory may return, and even if it doesn't, you can get a job once you leave."

"How? I have no details, no references. How am I supposed to fill out an application form? And where am I supposed to go anyway? I don't know where I live."

"Kudoh-san would appear to have a point, wouldn't you agree Fujimiya-san?"

Both Fujimiya and Yohji jumped at the sudden voice and turned to face the doorway. An attractive redheaded woman stood there, smiling at the pair. "Good day to you, Kudoh-san," she said smoothly. "My name is Manx-san and I am one of the chief consultants for your case."

Yohji nodded at the woman politely, but mostly still in shook at her silent entrance. The man beside him seemed much more used to her appearance, lending weight to the theory that she had a tendency to creep up on most people. "It's nice to meet you. Are you here to kick me out as I have no money?"

The woman laughed. "Goodness no, that would be medically unethical. We would never throw out someone who needs our help. However," she continued, her face suddenly becoming almost as serious as the other crimson haired occupant of the room. "Your main, and in fact only medical problem right now is your ongoing memory loss. We have no way of knowing how long it will last, but of course will want to continue to monitor you to make sure it is not a symptom of anything more serious. Usually we have someway of identifying the patient and contacting some next of kin who can provide details to help, but in your case we have idea of where to start looking."

Yohji groaned. "I know it. I'll have to stay here until I'm in too much debt to ever pay off."

"Maybe not," Manx objected. "Fujimiya, weren't you looking for a flatmate?"

The redhead beside Yohji turned even paler than he had been to begin with. His eyes narrowed as he turned to glare at the unconcerned woman. "We need someone to help pay the rent. We can't afford the place with just three sets of income."

"So give Kudoh-san a job in the florists as well," the woman reasoned. "It's the perfect solution. You'll be able to meet the rent, have an extra pair of hands in the shop and Kudoh-san will be under your experienced medical eye should anything go wrong." She caught Yohji's bemused look and smiled at him. "Fujimiya-san obviously hasn't told you much about himself. He and his two flatmates live above a florists shop where they also work part-time."

"But Kudoh-san doesn't know anything about working in a florists," Fujimiya objected.

"Neither did you, before you started," Manx answered smoothly. "I'm sure he'll pick it up quickly."

Fujimiya opened his mouth to reply then snapped it closed as he looked over to Yohji's hopeful green eyes. "I'll have to talk it over with Ken and Omi," he muttered.

"No need," Manx said cheerily. "I already phoned them. They both love the idea and are looking forward to meeting Kudoh-san tomorrow to help him get his belongings sorted." She spun on her heel and left in a busy cloud of efficiency, leaving two pairs of open mouths in her wake.

Fujimiya broke the silence first with a sigh as he rose to his feet. Yohji frowned in worry and hurriedly reached out a hand to grab the redhead's wrist. The other man froze at the contact, his entire body stiffening. "Hey, look, man," Yohji began softly. "If you're not happy about the idea then I'll think of something else, ok? I'm sure I'll remember something soon."

The redhead visibly forced himself to relax as he looking down at the blond. "No, she's right. This does make the most sense. You need someone to keep an eye on you." He gently shook his hand free from Yohji's grip and turned to leave. "I have to go now."

"Don't look so worried all the time," Yohji called after him, in an effort to get the redhead to relax a little. "I'm not a murderer or something. At least," he added with a cheerful wink. "I don't think I am."

The redhead stared at him blankly before leaving the room. Yohji sighed and looked at the flowers he had left on the nightstand. That guy just had no sense of humour at all, the blond concluded.

TBC

So what do you think? Leave me some feedback please and let me know if it's any good!


	2. Chapter Two

Force of Habit: Part Two

Author's Note: Okay, first up thanks to everyone who reviewed and a really big apology to everyone who couldn't – I really need to check the fine print more often. But the anonymous review block has been lifted and here is more Weiss goodness with added Ken and Omi for this part. Plus I managed to keep my bad language more in check for this part. Hope you like it!

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Yohji glanced around the room, letting his eyes linger over the plastic chair, the array of monitors and wires – all thankfully now unplugged and detached from himself, the blinds that matched the featureless walls and ceiling, and the single injection of colour which came from the collection of flowers Fujimiya had brought him.

Fujimiya. That strangely uptight redhead, who despite his apparent tendency to get unnerved while simply in the blond's presence, had been his most frequent visitor. Who, according to his only other visitor, Manx, lived with two young men above a flower shop. And those two young men were currently on their way here, to pick up Yohji and take him back to the florists with them. Yohji rolled his eyes and let himself fall back onto the bed. If those two were expecting much stuff to collect, they'd be in for a surprise. Yohji had only the clothes on his back – and they weren't even his.

Yohji glanced down at the plain grey sweater and jeans in distaste, plucking at the fabric with his fingers. The clothes he had been brought in wearing had been covered in blood and torn beyond repair, according to Fujimiya's emotionless explanation. So the hospital staff had managed to find some items in his size – at least until he got around to buying some things of his own. And that couldn't happen soon enough, the blond reflected as he pulled at the sweater's high collar. Okay, so he may not have any idea of how he usually dressed, but he had to have better taste than _this_. He'd checked himself out and he had one seriously good body, obviously toned and trimmed through lots of gym sessions or something because muscle tone like his took work. And it would be a waste to hide it under bulky, shapeless clothing, wouldn't it?

An energetic knock at the door caused Yohji to look up from his sprawled position on the bed as the door opened to admit two strangers. A teenaged blond entered first, waving a bunch of white flowers – Yohji had no idea what particular kind they were- in front of him while an older brunette followed close behind. The elder of the pair was holding a rather muddied football under one arm, and from the splatters on his clothes, had obviously been playing a game or two before coming to the hospital. The blond youth caught Yohji's eye and a huge grin spread over his face. "Hi! You're Kudoh Yohji, right?"

Yohji nodded, feeling a small smile of his own tug at his cheeks. "Just call me Yohji. I take it you're the two roommates I'm going to be living with."

The blond nodded vigorously, causing long bangs to fall into his blue eyes. "That's right. I'm Omi and this is Ken."

The older teen rolled his dark eyes. "I am capable of speaking for myself, Omi."

Omi blushed. "Sorry! I'm just a little excited right now."

Ken sighed and turned his attention to Yohji. "You ready to go now, or do you still have some packing to do?"

Yohji grinned and spread his arms. "Got nothing to pack. Apparently I had nothing with me when they brought me in. Helps keep the place clean, but doesn't do much for rediscovering my identity." Noting the look of concern on the two men's faces, Yohji quickly laughed. "Don't worry! As far as I'm concerned it's less stuff to worry about losing. A couple paychecks, a couple shopping trips and I'll be fine."

Apparently reassured, Omi smiled. "Well, in that case we should probably head back to the Koneko. Unless we're supposed to wait for Ran or something. I don't suppose he told you if he was finishing early today or not?"

Yohji frowned. "Ran? Do you mean Fujimiya?"

Ken groaned and slapped a hand over his eyes. "He only told you his family name? Why am I not surprised? That is so typical of the guy."

"Ran can seem a little cold," Omi explained hurriedly. "But I think it's just that he's not used to being very open with people. He likes to keep to himself most of the time."

Yohji nodded as he filed away the information. "Thanks for the insight, I thought it was something I'd done to offend the guy."

Ken snickered. "Don't worry about _that_, I piss the guy off at least five times a day so you wouldn't be the only one." He rubbed a hand through his already messy brown hair. "Well, we've already sorted out all the forms and stuff with Manx so I guess all's that's left is showing you your new place."

Omi frowned as he watched Yohji get to his feet and wander over. "So we're not going to wait for Ran?"

Ken shrugged. "If he wanted to head home with us, he would have been here waiting for us. He's probably got some assessment to finish off or something." He turned to grin at Yohji. "You ready?"

Already feeling less apprehensive and reassured by the friendly smiles and welcoming gestures of his two new roommates, Yohji nodded as the trio headed down the hallway and out of the hospital.

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Birman looked up at the redheaded man that stood before her and narrowed her eyes to match the glare she was currently receiving. "Manx said you would probably show up at some point today. Or are you here for a subject totally unrelated to Kudoh?"

"You're placing Ken and Omi in danger. They have no way of protecting themselves against someone like Void."

Birman sighed. "I thought so." The brunette met Ran's glare head on, seemingly unaffected by the sub-arctic purple orbs. "Do I need to remind you that Ken and Omi are both Kritiker agents?"

Ran shifted his weight slightly as he shook his head. The light from the room's window reflected off his earring as it swung back and forth. "They're agents in training. They're not professional assassins yet, they've never even fought an enemy in a non-simulated situation."

Birman leaned back in her chair. "Your concern for your team-mates is touching, but unnecessary. Ken and Omi have both given us no reason to worry about their ability to protect themselves."

"Against normal assassins maybe, but this is Void."

"Correction, Fujimiya. This is Kudoh Yohji. The assassin known as Void is no more." Birman interjected sharply before letting her features relax into a guarded smile. "But that observation of course is another reason why Ken and Omi are ideal flatmates for Kudoh. They, unlike other, more seasoned assassins have no idea who Void was and so will have no reason to treat Kudoh as anything other than a normal man who has lost his memory from an accident."

Ran frowned. "I'm not sure I follow."

"Oh come now," the woman chided. "You specialise in psychology, do you not? You of all people should know that simply wiping Kudoh's mind clean would achieve nothing without reinforcing the personality traits you inputted."

The redhead rolled his eyes. "Operant conditioning. You think positive re-enforcement is the best way to prevent a relapse."

Birman smiled. "Of course. Had we chosen something more Pavlovian in style, or a method involving positive punishment, we no doubt would achieve results quicker, but Kritiker feel a more lasting result is desirable."

Ran nodded absently. "Of course. Pavlovian responses only last as long as the stimulus is applied and positive punishment would mean Void would act as Kudoh only to avoid pain or out of fear. Positive re-enforcement would make him want to continue to act in this new manner even after the stimulus is removed."

"I see you've finally seen the logic behind this decision," Birman said in satisfaction. "Ken and Omi will unwittingly provide Kudoh with a reason for continuing to act in this manner by behaving in a warm and welcoming manner towards him. His disorientation from the mental blocks you set in place will cause Kudoh to feel vulnerable and in need of reassurance. He therefore will not wish to damage his relationships with the pair by acting in a manner contrary to how they expect him to behave."

"The idea is logical but still unacceptable."

Birman gaped, torn between surprise and anger at the redhead's continued stubbornness. "_What_?"

Ran smirked slightly, causing Birman to narrow her eyes. Fujimiya had obviously found a flaw in Kritiker's plan or he would have accepted the orders without this continued complaint. The young assassin frowned at the dark-haired woman in a vaguely disapproving manner. "You're forgetting two things. First, as both Ken and Omi are training to be assassins for Kritiker they tend to make mistakes. They can get sloppy and should they get involved in a mission during Vo – Kudoh's stay there is a high likelihood of either or both being injured. In any case, they may leave traces around the flat that Kudoh could uncover. This may cause a memory of his previous lifestyle to be trigger, undoing any progress in a matter of minutes."

Birman nodded. "Fine, next point."

"The second point is his previous employers, Schwarz. They'll still be looking for their missing member and by keeping Kudoh in the Koneko you are placing Ken and Omi in danger. However well you seem to think they'll be able to perform against one amnesiac former-assassin, I doubt they could cope with the other four Schwarz, even before you figure in those weird abilities of theirs."

Birman sighed. "I note your concern and will be sure to mention it to the higher authorities, but this decision is final and non-negotiable Ran. Deal with the situation like a professional and attempt to treat Kudoh with something approaching normality."

"You can't expect me to treat Void in the same manner as Ken and Omi."

Birman turned away from the man, ending the conversation. "Naturally not. But if I hear you refer to Kuoh by his former name one more time, I shall impose a visiting ban on your sister. Are we clear?"

A slamming door answered her. Birman tried not to roll her eyes, but the gesture escaped her control.

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Yohji looked around the shop in interest. "It's an impressive selection, but you honestly can't expect me to remember the names of all these flowers."

Omi beamed at the lanky blond over a large display of roses. "It's easier than you'd think. Plus it's not like there's anything else in your head right now, is there? You'll probably soak it all up like a sponge."

Ken chuckled from his position beside Yohji. "Don't worry," he said confidingly to the worried looking man. "You'll pick it up quickly enough, even if you're not some sort of boy genius like Omi here."

Yohji grinned and ran a hand through his hair. "So I'll have to know the latin names as well?"

Omi nodded. "Yeah, but don't worry about what the flowers symbolise. Ran knows all that stuff and we tend to leave it up to him anyway."

The green eyed man frowned as he let his eyes travel over the assorted displays again. "Flowers have meaning? Other than guys apologising to their girlfriends or to smell nice?"

Ken nodded. "Apparently so. It's a Victorian thing or something, used to be used like a secret code between lovers and so forth." The young brunette rolled his eyes and gave Yohji a lop-sided grin. "But before you decide to go developing hay-fever on us or something to get out of shifts, let's show you your room."

Yohji laughed and followed the young man, taking care to file that excuse in his mind for future use should he incur too many early morning starts.

"So," Ken was explaining. "As you can see, the shop takes up the ground floor and the living quarters are above it on the first floor. We each have our own room, plus there's a living area, a kitchen and a bathroom. As there's just the one, hot water can run a little scarce in the mornings – you have been warned."

"What's in the basement?" Yohji asked, jerking his thumb to where a set of stairs led down. He then frowned at the concerned looks Omi and Ken flashed each other. "Hey, what's up? It's not where you hide the bodies or anything, is it?"

Omi laughed. "Oh no! Nothing like that! It's just where Ran does all his medical work – he needs somewhere quiet to study where we won't disturb him."

Ken joined in with Omi's laughter. "Yeah! And you know what the guy is like, so we just call the place off-limits."

Yohji nodded his understanding. "Gotcha. Thanks for the tip." He turned to where the stairs led up to the first floor. "So which room is mine? And what's the bed like in there?"

Omi bustled past to show Yohji the way, while Ken followed. Yohji found himself warming more and more to the two younger men. Maybe it was the result of being trapped in a hospital for so long with only clinically efficient medical staff and a withdrawn redhead to talk to that made him so appreciative of the effort Ken and Omi were putting into making him feel at home, but Yohji felt like it was more than that. He really liked the pair. Shaking his hair out of his eyes, Yohji made his way up to his new room, feeling more at ease with each step. Recovering his memories would be a lot easier with people like this around him and helping him.

Yohji was jerked out of his reverie by a large pair of innocent blue eyes, blinking at him expectantly. "Well, what do you think? It's a little bare, but we can soon get some stuff for you to decorate it with."

The elder blond turned to look inside his new room and grinned in appreciation at the large bed that took up a good amount of space. "Looks like you got the priorities sorted out though. If that thing's as comfy as it looks, I'll be just fine in here." Crossing over to the bed, the lanky man flung himself down on the mattress and stretched out. "Oooooh, yeah. Me and this bed were made for one another. Already I feel a deep and meaningful bond forming between us."

Ken groaned from the doorway. "You're going to be hell to wake up in the mornings, aren't you? Still, it's good to know you're settling in quickly." The dark-haired man turned his attention to Omi. "Hey, what are we eating tonight? I'm starving."

Omi shrugged. "I hadn't thought of anything." The teen frowned in thought for a moment before grinning brightly at the other two men. "Hey! Seeing as we've got ourselves a new roommate, why don't we go out to eat to celebrate?"

Ken sighed in relief. "Anything that gets me out of cooking tonight has my vote. What do you think, Yohji? Reckon it could be a nice change from all that hospital food?"

Yohji laughed. "The idea's so tempting it may just persuade me to part from the bed. Just don't let me pick the restaurant, or we'll be wandering around the city all night."

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"Shhhhhh!"

"Shut up Ken! I'm trying to be quiet!"

"Looks to me like you're trying to wake up half the street with all that banging. The door opens the other way, Omi."

"I know!"

"Hey, Yohji. Just how much has the chibi had to drink?"

"Can't really say for sure. Kinda lost count myself once we moved off the sake. Man, my head is spinning."

"You were doing better at walking straight than me and Omi. And you managed to get that waitress' number."

"Years of practise, Ken. Well … either that or innate talent."

"Will you two stop laughing so loudly? Ran is not going to be happy if we wake him up. Ah, got the door. Come on. And be quiet!"

"Yes Omi."

"Sure Omi."

"Stop sniggering! Both of you!"

"Ow. Was that the table?"

"Shit, I forgot you don't know your way around yet. I'll get the light."

"Thanks, Ken."

"Uh-oh."

"Umm."

"Hey Ran?"

The sudden light caused the three slightly drunken men to squint at the crimson-haired man that was sitting silently at the table, regarding them with an expression that was far from happy. A mug of coffee, long turned cold, sat untouched in front of him. He fixed the trio with a chilling gaze, but didn't move or speak. The silence in the kitchen stretched.

Ken eventually broke it, stepping forwards and rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Uh, we thought it would be nice to go out to eat seeing as it's Yohji's first night here and everything and we didn't think you'd be back from the … uh – hospital until much later so we went without you." At the lack of response, the young man gestured angrily to a piece of paper stuck on the refrigerator behind Ran's head. "We left you a note, don't get pissy!"

Without a word, Ran got slowly to his feet. Three pairs of eyes watched him silently pour the cold coffee down the sink before rinsing out the mug. With a final glare at the others, the redhead turned and left the room. Ken kicked one of the chairs in frustration. "Damn him! I hate it when he gets like this!"

Yohji raised his hands in an effort to placate the irritated man. "Hey, he's probably just stressed from all the work at the hospital. Let him sleep it off and we can apologise tomorrow."

Ken sighed. "Yeah, whatever."

Omi smiled, obviously relieved at Yohji's success in calming the other man down. "I had better get off to bed. Classes start early tomorrow and you two have the morning shift in the Koneko." Oblivious to the duet of groans his remark caused, the young blond headed off for bed. "Sleep well!"

Yohji nodded to Ken before heading out after Omi. "Kid has a point, I guess. It's been a fun evening, Ken."

"Likewise, I think you're going to fit in just fine."

Yohji smiled, but felt a vague pang of doubt. For some reason he just couldn't shake the feeling that the redhead's coldness towards him went beyond a standoffish attitude. The blond yawned and forced his worries to the back of his mind. Tomorrow, he decided, he and Ran Fujimiya were going to have a little chat and maybe he'd find out just why the man seemed to hate him.

TBC


	3. Chapter Three

Force of Habit: Part Three

Author's Note: In an answer to the rallying cry that has gone out to all Yohji and Aya fans, I have produced the next chapter. Vive le Resistance! Plus kudos to my beta-reader for providing all the alcohol, take-out and assorted other bizarre requests to prevent me from leaving my computer until this was finished. Editing above and beyond, sweetie.

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Ran opened his eyes and saw Manx sitting to his side. The young man rolled his eyes and would have sighed if it weren't for the sudden stabbing pain in his chest region when he tried to inhale deeply. The redheaded woman looked over at the hiss of suddenly indrawn breath and smiled at the Kritiker agent. "So, you're awake. Congratulations are in order."

_Ran painfully released his breath and drew in another before looking towards the woman in a complete loss of understanding. "What for? Getting mangled on my first killing assignment?"_

_"Mangled may not be an accurate description. According to the doctors, you suffered a punctured lung from the stab wound to your ribs that created an air cavity in your chest. Ironically, this is what saved you. The bullet that later hit you simply passed through empty air as opposed to your lungs and therefore was substantially easier to repair."_

_Ran narrowed his eyes. "So I failed twice and am not cut out to be a Kritiker assassin, right? I fail to see how this merits celebration."_

_"Ran – your enemy were Schwarz. None of our other agents has survived an encounter with them. And more than that, you rendered one of them unconscious."_

_The violet eyes narrowed further as Ran searched his memories and found hazy recollections of gathering the last of his strength to fling his katana after a retreating shadow. "You mean I actually hit him?"_

_Manx positively smirked. "You did more than that. You allowed us to capture Void."_

_Ran tried to sit up, but the flaring agony forced him to remain where he was. "Capture? You didn't kill him? Why not?!"_

_"Please try to calm down, you're in no condition to exert yourself physically right now. Kritiker has a new assignment for you"_

_Ran glared Manx. "Just how am I supposed to be able to carry out an assignment like this? I'm not going to be capable of any kind of physical exertion for quite a while."_

_"The assignment we have for you draws upon your medical knowledge, not your assassin training."_

_Ran raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"_

_Manx smiled and pulled a wheelchair over to the bed. "Come on and I'll show you what we have in mind."_

Ran grudgingly allowed the woman to help him into a seated position in the chair. Once settled, he was smoothly wheeled out of the room and down a series of corridors that were almost identical in their sterile blankness. Only Ran's detailed knowledge of the hospital where his sister lay enabled him to keep his bearings. He frowned as they left the wards and travelled towards where the pathology and research labs lay. Security was high here and each of the rooms protected by a baffling array of computerised locks and I.D card readers. Ran twisted his head to look at Manx, but the woman stared straight ahead – her expression revealing nothing. The Kritiker assassin sighed. "Why do I get the feeling I know what you're taking me to see? Or, rather, who?"

_"Patience, Abyssinian, we're almost there." True to her words, Manx brought the chair to a stop outside another anonymous door and keyed in a series of combination codes before swiping her Kritiker card and opening the door. "Meet your new project."_

_Ran glanced around the room, letting his eyes take in the wall of computers and monitors, all wired into the silent and unmoving form that rested on the bed in the middle of the room. The sight of that figure caused Ran's hands to involuntarily clench before he forced a shaking breath into his constricted chest, feeling the burn of wounds that had been caused by the man he now stared at. Struggling for something to say that would not give away the churning sensation Ran felt in the pit of his stomach, he noticed the man's head and felt his eyes widen in surprise. "He looks different without the hair."_

_Manx nodded as she too regarded the unconscious assassin. Void's blond hair had once fallen almost to his waist, but had now been mercilessly removed to allow the crowding of electrodes and wires that linked the Schwarz agent's innermost mental signals up to the blinking computer screens. Ran found the loss of the hair somewhat comforting. At one point in their struggle, Void had found himself momentarily without a weapon and had improvised by wrapping the silken coils around Ran's neck in an attempt to choke him. Now the man looked strangely harmless and almost vulnerable._

_With an irritated sigh, Ran slumped back in the chair – hissing slightly as his chest protested against such casual movement. From the corner of his eye, he saw Manx's mouth twitch in a smirk and tried to recover by adopting his iciest tone of voice. "I assume you brought me here for more than an identification?"_

_The woman smiled, unaffected by either Fujimiya's glare or tone of voice. "Kritiker do not want Void killed. His brain activity is highly unusual and further study of Void is highly desirable."_

_Ran snorted. "At the moment there's not much to study, and I wouldn't want to try it when he wakes up."_

_Manx glared at him, obviously irritated by his attitude, but unwilling to let it show too much and risk letting her professional manner slip. "Precisely, Abyssinian. Void is first and foremost a highly dangerous killer: completely unpredictable and impossible to defend against, until you managed to fight him to a standoff. Observation of such a man while in an alert state would be tantamount to suicide. However, without Void conscious and reacting to external stimuli in a normal fashion, we can only gather half the data we need." The flame haired woman paused for a moment, searching Ran's face for understanding. "What we need is to remove the kitten's claws, as it were."_

_What the Kritiker agent was saying finally sunk in and Ran turned to face the silent Void in shock. "You want to mess around with his head and reprogram him? Wouldn't that just suppress his unique abilities and render him normal?"_

_"Not necessarily. We have reason to believe that the Schwarz assassins received training only to refine and hone their abilities, not to become aware of them. It follows that Void's will remain after he regains consciousness."_

_"So they'll be out of control? Sounds almost as dangerous as just letting the bastard wake up normally."_

_"If he forgets he is Schwarz, he'll forget all about his special talents. They'll be dormant. Harmless to those around him, but present in his mind and therefore there for us to examine." Manx crossed over to the side of the bed and looked down at Void's slack features. "Kritiker want you to use your knowledge of psychology and conditioning. We want his memory erased, Schwarz, his profession, his past – all of it. We also want a new personality, an outgoing, sociable disposition that will make it easier for us to get Void's cooperation in any tests we wish to carry out."_

_The demand had caused Ran's mouth to drop open in shock. He quickly recovered as a cold wave of anger gripped him. "And if I refuse?"_

_"Your sister's medical care will be withdrawn, as will our subsidy of the bills she is currently incurring by simply sleeping her life away."_

_Ran gritted his teeth. "You do realise there's no way of knowing if the memory blocks will hold? Or if the process won't simply render him catatonic? You could end up with a mindless vegetable on your hands."_

_"In addition to the one upstairs? That's a risk we're willing to take." Oblivious to the violent rage that was flaring in Ran's violet eyes, Manx walked past him, dropping a security I.D card into his lap. "Your assignment begins as of now, it'll give you something to do while you're regaining your strength. Sleeping quarters have been arranged for you next door. You leave this room to sleep only, everything else you need is provided in here. When you wake up, this card will allow you back into the room. Once you are finished, I expect to be contacted immediately."_

_Ran turned to watch her leave before refocusing his attention once again on the unconscious man who had nearly killed him. Wheeling his chair closer, Ran could see the white bandages wrapped around the man's shoulder where the katana had pierced through flesh and skin to skewer the already stunned blond. The shock of the wound must have been what finally caused Void to lose consciousness, Ran reflected, trying to suppress the urge to simply reach out and strangle the man as he lay completely at the redhead's mercy. Ran sighed in defeat and turned to the computers. A sociable and outgoing personality, huh? One that would comply with everything Kritiker wanted? Ran baulked at the idea of creating another puppet for Kritiker to use. Bad enough that they could control his every move through implied threats to his sister: but to expect him to place someone else in exactly the same situation? Ran felt a small smile flicker across his face as he considered ways in which to vent his frustration at both Kritiker and Void. He'd make the arsehole sociable all right. So damn sociable Kritiker would never be able to find him at home._

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Yohji stretched out his arms and yawned. God, it felt good to have a decent size bed to stretch out on instead of that nasty, narrow little hospital bunk. His mouth felt extremely dry, obviously from the alcohol consumed the evening before. Testing the extent of his hangover, Yohji eased himself up into a seated position and was vastly relieved to find himself troubled only by the overwhelming urge to drain Tokyo Bay of water. It seemed his alcohol resistance was higher than he'd thought it would be from such a long stay in hospital, perhaps the result of the same high metabolism that kept his body in such good shape? Yohji shook his head with a rueful smile as he clambered out of bed and headed towards the kitchen. First things first, he needed something - _anything_ - to drink.

The kitchen was empty when he wandered in, though the half-eaten bowl of cornflakes in the sink indicated that Omi had left for class in somewhat of a rush. Yohji headed over to the fridge and pulled it open, examining the contents for anything drinkable. A large carton of orange juice seemed particularly appealing, and the lanky blond grabbed it, knocking shut the door with an elbow while his free hand groped for a glass to pour the juice into. From somewhere deep in his mind, the faint wisps of a song fluttered up to his consciousness and the blond began to absentmindedly sing along, pronouncing the English words with unconscious ease. "_Make a whole new religion, a falling star that you cannot live without. And I'll feed your obsession; there'll be nothing but this thing you'll never doubt. It is hard to resist and I'll never miss. I can take you all out with just a flick of my wrist." _Turning away from the counter, and pausing in his singing to gulp down most of the juice, Yohji sprayed out what remained of his mouthful at the sight of a silent Fujimiya staring at him with an expression akin to alarm on his porcelain features.

Yohji spluttered and coughed as he fought to keep the acidic juice from sliding down his windpipe and into his lungs. "Fuck! You scared the shit out of me! Mind making some noise when you move?"

The violet eyes only narrowed in answer. "You were singing."

Yohji blinked at the coldness in tone, he'd never seen the man being what any normal person would call friendly, but the hostility he now showed made his earlier interactions with the blond seem positively affectionate. "Yeah, sorry. I didn't realise that was against the house rules." Yohji almost regretted the sarcasm in the reply, but he was getting really tired of the redhead's attitude. If he had done something to deserve this treatment, he might be able to comprehend it, but as he had been unconscious until a couple of days ago, Ran's behaviour was irrational and completely unreasonable.

"And just how is it that you can claim to have total memory loss, yet recall song lyrics?" There was an undeniable note of accusation in the question, and from the distrustful look in Fujimiya's purple eyes, it seemed that he wanted the blond to admit to something.

Yohji lost it. He slammed the glass and carton of juice down on the counter and whirled to face the smaller man, his green eyes blazing with anger. "I don't know _how_ I know it, I just know it! I don't see why that should be a criminal offence! And in any case, you're the arsehole with all the medical knowledge so you tell me! And while you're at it, maybe you'd like to fill me in on exactly what it is I've done to offend you?"

Ran actually went pale at the sight of Yohji's anger, his hand clenching into a fist as though closing around an object. The redhead opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out.

Yohji advanced on the man, his anger giving way to frustration. "What is it with you? I can't work you out. You seem to be able to barely stand my company, yet you hardly ever leave it. Can you see my confusion here?"

Ran flinched, his weight shifting to one leg as though about to take a step back, away from the older man. He appeared to catch himself, and closed his eyes, drawing in a long, deep breath. He released the air equally slowly before opening his eyes and meeting Yohji's verdant gaze. "Your shift starts in twenty minutes. You should get dressed."

With that statement, the redhead turned and left the kitchen. Yohji watched his departing back in baffled silence.

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"Oi, Ken. Can I ask you a question?"

"They're called roses, Yohji. Christ, even you should know that one."

Yohji frowned for a moment, before noting the handful of red and yellow flowers he had been in the process of stripping the thorns from. "Very funny. This isn't about work."

Ken's head appeared above the large arrangement of flowers he was carrying over to the counter. "Oh?" His dark eyes regarded the distracted blond. "What's up?"

"It's Fujimiya. Do you have any idea why the guy hates me so much?" Yohji watched as Ken frowned in thought, absently chewing on his lower lip.

The brunette sighed and rolled his eyes. "Ran's main problem is that he hates being around other people. The only thing I can think of is that he might resent the way the hospital bullied him into letting you stay here and is determined to hate you. He can be stubborn like that." Ken paused and suddenly noted Yohji's withdrawn expression in alarm. 'Hey, don't let it get you down. So what if the guy's behaving like a bastard, it's fairly normal to him and anyway, Omi and I are really glad you're here."

Seeing the concern on the younger man's face caused Yohji to force a smile onto his own features. "Thanks. I just had this feeling that we'd met before and had this big rivalry going on or something."

Ken sniggered. "Judging from Ran's behaviour, the two of you must have been trying to kill each other or something." He shook his head in amusement, brown strands swinging in front of his eyes. "Nah, the guy's just an arsehole. Best just to get used to it."

Yohji laughed. "Thanks for the advice. I'll see if it helps any the next time he starts bitching at me."

Ken grinned, before pausing to glance at the clock. "Uh, that could be sooner than you'd like. He's due to start his shift in about ten minutes." The young brunette sighed and readjusted the flowers in his arms. "Better get back to work and not give him any excuses to start on us."

Yohji turned his attention back to the roses. "Since when did that guy need a reason to start on me," he muttered to himself.

A shadow fell over the pile of roses awaiting his attention and Yohji glanced up to find himself staring into a familiar pair of violet eyes. The blond groaned and rolled his eyes. "What do you want now?"

"I owe you an apology, Kudoh-san."

Yohji's eyes flew back to examine the face that was so close to his own. The redhead's clipped and determinedly neutral tone were definitely at odds with the way that amethyst gaze kept flickering away from his face and then back again. And was that hesitance in those eyes? Yohji paused in his task, bringing his hands to rest lightly on the table as he stared at the pale man in amazement.

Ran's back was ramrod straight, and the tension in his body gave the appearance that he would fall over and shatter should Yohji happen to push him with as much as a finger. The blond's eyes flickered around the room, idly wondering where the gunman forcing Fujimiya to apologise was located. "I was out of order this morning and I am very sorry, Kudoh-san. Of course I am delighted you are regaining your memories and recovering from your ordeal. Please forgive my rudeness."

Yohji gave the man a long appraising stare before shrugging. He wasn't one to bear grudges – at least he didn't think he was. "Fine. Apology accepted. And it's Yohji. Leave all that Kudoh-san crap to the doctors, yeah?"

Ran nodded stiffly before turning and walking over to the till where a crowd of young girls was beginning to gather. He glared at schoolgirls, the uncertain attitude of moments ago abruptly replaced by the more normal glacial aloofness. "If you're not going to buy anything, get out."

Yohji caught Ken's eyes from across the room and the pair exchanged helpless shrugs. It seemed that Fujimiya was going to remain an enigma for the near future.

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Yohji entered the living room to blink in surprise at the piles of CDs that were scattered around the room. "Omi, what are you up to? Fujimiya's going to have a hissy fit when he sees this mess."

The teenage blond looked up from his seated position in the midst of all the chaos and grinned at the other man. "It's ok, I already told him about this and he said it was ok!"

The taller blond ran a hand through his honey-coloured hair and sank down onto the couch. "And just what exactly is 'this' anyway?"

Omi grinned again and began to rummage through the piles of discs, pulling out a random selection and placing them into the stereo. "Well, you can't remember anything about yourself, can you? Like what you like and don't like. It must be really frustrating so I figured maybe if we played you lots of different types of music, you could work out what bands you used to listen to and then, maybe, you wouldn't feel so bad about not knowing anything else as you'd at least know what kind of music you liked. And then we could try the same with food, and films …"

Yohji laughed at the youth's enthusiasm. "Well, it'd be a start, I guess. What if I had really bad taste in music though, and just never admitted it? I could be ruining my image here."

Omi pulled a face. "Oh please, as far as we're concerned you have no image to maintain. And if a band's really awful, then I promise to warn you before I play the music so you'll know to look like you hate it." Omi regarded Yohji with blue eyes that gleamed in amusement. "But seeing as that's all the stuff Ken likes, at least you wouldn't be alone in having really bad taste."

Yohji leaned back against the sofa and adjusted the cushions so that they rested underneath his head. "Sounds like a plan. Play away."

It was fairly quickly realised that whoever Yohji was, he was someone that appreciated a strong beat to his music and preferably guitars as well. Yohji was vastly relieved by this discovery, having been unable to shake the fear that he was a J-Pop or American boy band fan on the quiet. He turned to wink at Omi, who was still playing random snippets of songs. "You know, when I first woke up, I thought I might have been a guitar player. I have these grooves on my fingers that look like they could have come from playing one of those. I guess if that was true, then I would like that kind of music."

Omi nodded thoughtfully, tapping an empty CD case on his chin. "It definitely seems a possibility. Do you think you played in a band?"

Yohji frowned and searched the blankness. "No idea. I like the idea of being in a group, but that doesn't mean I was." He let out a wry laugh. "You know, you could put a guitar in front of me and I doubt I'd even know how to play a chord."

Omi frowned. "I wouldn't be so sure. Some things are instinctual. You do them so often they become automatic gestures, like force of habit. Your body would remember even if your mind didn't." 

"Like flinging your alarm clock at the wall every morning?"

The young blond laughed. "I think so."

Yohji smiled back at Omi, but felt his features freeze as Ran entered the room. Omi glanced over at the redhead and hurriedly began to place the loose CDs back into their cases. "I was just about to tidy this up, Ran. Honest."

To Yohji's surprise, the redhead didn't seem to mind, but simply sat down in one of the empty chairs with a simple, "Hn." Ran looked over at Yohji, an inscrutable expression in his eyes, "Have you come to any conclusions?"

Yohji blinked at the question, surprised at the apparent attempt at civility. "Rock music good, pop music bad. Haven't been able to narrow it down to any bands yet." Yohji looked over at the pale man and noted there was definitely a wariness in his expression that he was desperately trying to hide. The reason behind this seeming uneasiness of the older blond baffled Yohji, but he decided to not to question it. He already knew enough about the man to realise that questioning him on his behaviour would only trigger an even bigger argument than the outburst this morning.

Ran shifted under Yohji's apprising gaze and turned his attention to Omi. "I have to go out tonight. Manx wants to see me at the hospital, so I could be back late."

Omi nodded. "If you run into problems, leave a note under my door and I'll cover your morning shift in the Koneko. You'll have to work the afternoon with Yohji."

"Aa," Ran rose to his feet. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Yohji watched him leave then glanced over at Omi. "That Manx sure is a slave driver. What could she want to see him about at this time of night?"

Omi busied himself with the CDs. "It is a hospital, Yohji. Patients don't just exist between 9 and 5. Perhaps an interesting case has come up that Manx-san thinks would be a useful learning experience for Ran."

Yohji nodded. "Yeah, you got a point." He leaned back against the cushions, only to jerk upright as a new song began to play. "Shit! I know that! And I mean, like, really know it!"

Omi hurried over to the stereo to work out which CD was responsible for the slow pulsing beat that filled the room. "Um, it could be Portishead, I guess." A moment later he was shaking his head as a low, rasping and undeniably male voice began to snarl lyrics. "Scratch that, they have a female singer. I think it's off one of the compilations I grabbed from Ran's collection."

As the young blond continued to mutter and rummage through CD cases, Yohji relaxed back against the couch, singing along to the words. 

"_I'm so haunted, tormented and torn_

_By this vast void of memories_

_Touch my heart you can feel the stone_

_You can scratch it but it will not bleed_"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The loud bass beat caused the glass of water that sat next to the glowing computer monitor to steadily jerk its way across the desk. It teetered on the edge for a moment or two before tipping over at the exact instant its owner noticed it. "Shit!"

The glass hung in the air, the water suspended by an invisible force until it was manoeuvred into the waiting hand. A large pair of blue eyes gazed at it for a moment, before marching out of the room. "Schuldig!" The loud music emanated from behind a locked door that burst open as the young brunette approached it. "Turn it down!"

The long-haired redhead glanced up from his sprawled position on the bed. "Show some respect for your elders, kid." To emphasise his lack of concern over the boy's anger, the man glanced at him from green-eyes that were narrowed in amusement. "Anyway, it's about time you were introduced to something other than that genki shit you keep listening to." The eyes closed again and the elder of the pair began to sing along. "_You can scratch it but it will not bleed._

_I will not bleed_

_This phantom love, this phantom love_

_I will not bleed._"

The sound suddenly cut out as the stereo flicked off. "You're so full of shit. You never played this Marilyn Manson crap that loud when Void was around."

Schuldig glared at the kid. "It's Soundisciples, chibi. They're not even American. And anyway, Void never used to bitch in the little girl way that you do."

"He didn't have to. You were scared shitless of him."

The German snorted. "He was an even bigger psycho than you and Farfie put together. You should have heard some of the stories that went 'round Rosenkreuz about him." There was a moment of quiet as Mastermind scratched his head before yawning. "Any way, he's dead now so what does it matter? Piss off, Nagi, and download porn or something."

Nagi glared at him, but stormed out of the room. Schuldig smirked and reached out to switch the music back on again.

"Mastermind. I need to see you in my office now."

The redhead rolled his eyes dramatically as he rose to his feet. "What now Bradley?" He looked over to the doorway, where the American leader of Schwarz stood. "And this had better be good."

Crawford turned away without answering, triggering a muttered stream of abuse from the German as Schuldig followed him into the office. Lacking the ability to see the future himself, he had no way of predicting the fist that swung straight at his face the minute the door was closed. Schuldig ducked, causing it to graze alongside his cheek instead of knocking him to the floor. "Shit! What was that for?"

"You told me Void was dead. You told me you searched for his mental thought patterns and couldn't find any matches. I do not appreciate being lied to."

Stunned Schuldig gaped up at Crawford's unyielding expression. "What? That was the truth! There was no trace of the guy."

"So perhaps you would then care to tell me exactly how a dead man is going to shoot you in a few months time?"

The German gaped. "Eh?"

"I just had a vision. The exact timeframe remains unclear, but the details were sufficient. Void was with that angry young redhead we fought close to a year ago, along with two others who I did not recognise. They were fighting against us and they were not losing miserably. In fact, after Void shot you, they appeared to gain the upper hand." The Oracle glared at Schuldig. "This is not acceptable."

Schuldig rubbed a hand over his cheek, deep in thought. "So we find Void and bring him back before the vision happens. And the best way to do that would be to find that redhead." A cocky smile spread over his face. "Don't worry, I'll find him."

The American drew back slightly. "See that you do, I will not tolerate failure."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Yohji blinked awake, glancing around the darkness of his room and wondering just what had woken him. His eyes strayed over to the red glowing alarm beside the bed. 4:15. He rubbed a hand through honey coloured hair and groaned quietly. He'd never get back to sleep now, but it was still probably worth a shot. Yohji rolled over and closed his eyes when he heard a sound from below. A thump followed by a low groan of pain.

Fully alert now, Yohji climbed out of bed as quietly as he could and opened the door to the corridor. A faint light from the kitchen provided the blond with sufficient means to make his way down to the kitchen and peer around.

He'd half been expecting burglars or something, so it came as a bit of a shock to see a toned pale back topped by a blazing head of crimson hair. Ran was sat on the kitchen table, facing away from him with his shirt nowhere in sight. Yohji felt a smirk cross his face at some evidence that the cold, standoffish man had a social life, when the missing garment was dropped onto the table at the redhead's side. Despite the shadows cast against the shirt by Ran's body, Yohji noted a dark mark covering most of it. It looked like red wine. The blond bit back a snort of laughter. Obviously Ran's secret date hadn't appreciated his attitude and the boy had ended up getting a drink slung over him. Served him right. Yohji stepped back, ready to head up to his room and the warm and inviting bed, when the redhead shifted his weight with a stifled gasp, causing the kitchen light to fully hit the shirt. In the sudden light that had fallen across the heap of material, it was obvious that the mark was the wrong colour for wine, the only thing it could be was blood.

Yohji felt his breath hitch in alarm as too late he noticed the open first aid kit sat on Ran's other side. Luckily for him, the redhead was completely focused on his chest, and as the younger man turned so he could examine his chest better in the light offered by the hanging lamp, Yohji saw that the redhead was trying to stitch up a narrow gash that ran along his side and seemed to have been caused by a knife of some kind. Blood was oozing from the cut and causing Ran's taut skin to slide between his fingers, making it difficult for him to push the needle through the surface of the skin. From his vantage point, Yohji couldn't help but notice the thick scar that was located a couple of inches further up his chest next to a more circular shaped scar. The blond frowned. What had the redhead been doing to have knife wounds, and what looked like a bullet wound marking that pale expanse of chest? And why the hell wasn't he getting his injuries seen to at the hospital where he worked?

Ran worked silently, hissing his breath in every time the needle was dragged through the ragged ends of flesh, but clearly unwilling to alert the rest of the household to his injured state. The healed scars flexed and winked in the light, pure white marks against already pale skin. When he had tied off the last stitch, the redhead began to wind strips of bandage around his ribs, wincing slightly as his raised arm caused the wound to stretch painfully. Yohji wondered just how the man intended to work a shift in the Koneko tomorrow, shifting heavy pots and the like when it was clear that he was in severe discomfort. Puzzled by this latest revelation about the already enigmatic man, Yohji silently made his way back to his room. Far better to leave now, while the other man was unaware of his presence than to let the redhead catch sight of him when Ran was so obviously desperate to keep his wounds secret. But just what was a medical student and florist doing with that many scars, never mind the current knife wound? Maybe he had simply pissed off some gang members on his way back from the hospital with that attitude of his, Yohji reasoned as he opened the door to his room and closed it behind him as silently as he could, and didn't want to have to admit it to a nurse or doctor that he had to work with on a daily basis. Or maybe the gang members were carrying a grudge and tried to beat him up on a regular basis. The blond sat down on the bed, his forehead creased as he fell deep into thought. Much as the idea of a simple mugging or attack seemed reasonable, Yohji couldn't help but wonder why if that had been the case, Ran would be so anxious not to involve the police. From what he had learned of the man, Ran seemed exactly the sort to demand to see anyone who so much as raised their voice to him behind bars, so the idea that Ran was keeping quiet out of fear was ridiculous. There was something else going on, Yohji decided. And he was determined to find out what.

TBC


	4. Chapter Four

Force of Habit: Chapter Four

Within ten seconds of entering the building, Ran had known that someone had made a serious mistake. Instead of the small number of night staff that his information had caused him to suspect, Ran had found himself surrounded by a large number of armed guards. Instead of a stealthy dash over to where the target would have been sleeping blissfully unaware of his impending doom, the Kritiker assassin had been forced to fight his way through the swarms of men who should not have been there. No more than halfway across the room, Ran had lost control when he saw his target creeping past the melee in an attempt to escape to safety.

Rational thought had been discarded then for the instinctual slice and stab as Ran fiercely hacked his way through the tide of bodies. He'd reached the target just in time to receive a slicing blow to his ribs courtesy of one extremely lucky bodyguard and a nearby shard of glass. That had been the final straw. The redhead had left them in pieces: very small pieces.

It was only on his return to the Koneko, stitching up yet another future scar that a nagging sense of suspicion had begun to creep into Ran's awareness. In recent months, the type of mission he'd been sent on had gradually become far more than what a lone assassin could easily accomplish. Ever since he'd returned to active status after reprogramming Void, he'd been persistently outnumbered and outgunned. There had been only one logical conclusion. Kritiker wanted to allow Ken and Omi to take part in missions and were seeking to force Ran into admitting that he needed the backup. Every injury he gathered would simply be used as evidence to support their claims that Ran couldn't cope alone. The redhead had gone to bed musing on his conclusions and as a result had woken up very cranky and very stiff. His entire chest felt as though it had been held in a vice, and any movement involving the muscles along his side resulted in sharp jabs of pain strong enough to make his breath hitch amongst his battered ribs. Even the knowledge that Omi was currently working the morning shift in his place was offset by the realisation that Ran now had to spend the afternoon working alongside one amnesiac, ex-psychotic killer. 

Dressing was a slow process, hampered greatly by the fact that any attempt to raise his arm above shoulder height resulted in extreme protest from his chest. Ran ended up wearing a loose pair of jeans and a large orange sweater that was loose enough to conceal the padding caused by bandages wrapped securely around his midsection. He hurriedly brushed his hair out of his eyes as best as he could with one side of his body more or less rendered immobile and headed down to the Koneko to begin his shift.

Ken was waiting for him in the kitchen, an irritated expression on his face that Ran had come to recognise as Hideka's own personal way of indicating he wanted to talk. Or, as was more usually the case, rant. Ran narrowed his eyes to glare at the younger man, having neither the time nor the patience to deal with a verbal crusade against his behaviour. Ken, as always, failed to pick up on the hostile body language and blocked Ran's way with an arm. "Wait a minute. We need to talk."

The atmosphere in the kitchen dropped by several more degrees. Ran carefully examined the obstacle in his path, as though considering simply hacking his way past before turned his arctic gaze on the brunette. "Move."

Ken's face flushed. "Not 'til you here me out. I need to know what your problem is."

"My problem is that you are preventing me from getting to work."

"Stop being evasive! I'm talking about this bastard attitude you're giving Yohji. What's your problem?" At the lack of immediate response from the pale redhead, Ken's hands clenched into fists. "I'm sick of this! The guy has done nothing to deserve this. He's trying so damn hard to fit in and get on with us all and you just keep throwing it all back in his face and making him feel like he's not welcome!"

"He's not one of us." Ran forced the words out through clenched teeth and immediately berated himself for even saying that much. Why couldn't he have just lied and made up something about the guy getting on his nerves? Ken wasn't exactly the most adept person at recognising when a person wasn't being completely honest, yet he had instinctively answered as truthfully as he dared.

Ken's forehead creased in puzzlement at the older man's words, before clearing as the brunette rolled his eyes with a heavy sigh. "You're worried about the Kritker thing. What, you think he'll suspect something?" Ken paused and took Ran's silence as an affirmative. "Shit, don't get so paranoid. Omi and I aren't ready to go out on missions and he's completely buying the whole hospital cover story we've got going on. As long as you're careful and discreet – and you're so anal that's not going to be a problem – he'll never realise what you're really up to in the evenings." Ken's mood reverted back to his frustration of moments ago as he waved a finger in Ran's face. "But either way, you keep treating Yohji like he's some crazed serial killer and sooner or later the guy's gonna start to wonder just why you seem to have such a stick up your arse about him. Are you even listening to me?"

Ran regarded Ken's flushed face coolly. "Are you finished?" He watched the other man splutter incoherently for a few moments, before brushing past. "I have a shift now."

"You know, you can be such a wanker. I don't even know why I'm bothering!" Ken's departing words carried down to Ran. The redhead simply continued on his way to the shop without so much as a backward glance at the flatmate and co-worker who was still yelling insults at him. 

"What's Ken so pissed about?"

Ran felt himself instinctively stiffen at the sound of that rich voice before forcing his body into a more relaxed posture as he turned to face the lanky blond. Yohji was by the door, seeing off the last few schoolgirls who had visited the florists during their lunch break. A relaxed smile was spread across his handsome features as he turned and froze at the sight of the pale redhead. "Uh, sorry. I thought you were Omi."

Ran turned away, uncomfortable at seeing Yohji's reaction to his presence. "Omi and I switched shifts today." Safely hidden from the hesitant green gaze that was no doubt watching him uneasily, Ran squeezed his eyes shut and released his breath in a quiet sigh. This wasn't right. Kudoh wasn't supposed to be scared of him. Ran was the one that had been lucky to survive in their first encounter. He was absolutely no threat to someone as experienced as Void had been.

The redhead jerked himself away from that thought immediately. Kudoh. He was Kudoh Yohji now. The man couldn't even wield a pair of shears effectively any more. Reopening his eyes, Ran once more mentally berated himself for his behaviour before turning back to the taller man. "I take it no one told you, Kudoh-san?"

Yohji grinned and ran a hand through his hair. "Actually, I only just got here myself. Kinda didn't get much sleep last night." Apparently not noticing the way in which Ran had stiffened again, the blond chuckled wryly to himself. "Guess sleeping in unfamiliar surroundings will do that to you."

Ran nodded, his eyes focused on the far corner of the shop. "It should pass soon enough."

"I figured as much. Oh, and Omi said to tell you that Manx rang earlier. Said she was going to drop in some time this afternoon."

Ran heard himself groan before he could stop himself. Obviously the woman wanted to check up on him and how he was after last night's debacle. Seeing him struggling around the Koneko was just going to make her more insistent about Ran taking on partners. Glancing over at his co-worker for the next few hours, he noticed Yohji was carefully rearranging the floral displays in the stands by the front of the shop. The fact that this task meant that the man was in no danger of coming anywhere near the redhead was not lost on Ran. He felt his fists briefly clench again, before shaking his head. "I'm heading over to make up some arrangements. If you need any help, let me know."

The door chimed at that moment, causing both men to look over at the attractive woman who had just stepped inside. Ran felt himself about to groan again, but managed to catch himself in time. "Manx-san. The others said you would be dropping in."

Manx tossed some stray strands of red hair over her shoulder and smiled at Ran in a somewhat predatory fashion. "Yes, I wanted to know how you got on last night."

Ran glanced over at Yohji, who was still picking through the flowers and apparently taking no interest in the conversation. "Fine."

The corners of Manx's mouth curled up further. "That's good to know. I'm sure you found it a very informative learning experience."

"It seemed much the same as everything else I've encountered," Ran said dismissively, recognising instantly the direction in which Manx was aiming to steer the conversation. If the woman thought discussing this in front of Kudoh was going to intimidate Ran into backing down and agreeing to go along with Kritiker's plans, she was in for an unpleasant surprise. "It was nothing I couldn't handle."

Manx's smile dropped from her face as she realised the redheaded man was going to continue to be stubborn. "Obviously we have underestimated your talents. Perhaps you would like something more challenging in future?" Her eyes flickered over to Yohji's bent head and then back at Ran. "But never mind about that, I came to get some flowers. I recall you mentioning some rather elaborate orchids that you had just received in. I would very much like some to brighten up the office." She stepped further into the florists, apparently searching for the flowers and smiled as she pointed at a decorative pot sitting up on one of the shelves. "And I do believe that's them. Would you be so kind as to get them for me?"

Ran forced himself not to clench his fists in annoyance as he silently nodded his head. Refusing to help would only arouse Manx's suspicion that he was injured. Though, of course, she was obviously suspicious already or she wouldn't be trying to catch him out. Hoping Manx would take the stiffness in his posture for annoyance rather than concealment of an injury, Ran began to make his way over to the pot, already dreading the prospect of pulling out several stitches by stretching for the heavy pottery.

Neither redhead in the shop had been expecting Yohji to smoothly remove the pot before Ran could reach it. He threw a charming grin at the stunned Manx as he passed the orchids to her. "Allow me to help. I'm nearer after all and I must admit I find it most unfair that Ran is so determined to monopolise the time of such a beautiful woman." He completed his sentence with a wink and tossed his hair out of his eyes.

Manx stared at Yohji for a moment in complete amazement, before quickly recovering herself and taking the flowers from him. "Why thank you, Kudoh-san. I am most impressed with your professional manner. You seem a natural for the job." Her attention focused completely on the flirtatious blond in front of her, Manx failed to notice the completely floored expression on Ran's normally impassive face.

Yohji moved slightly closer to her, sliding a friendly arm along her shoulder. "My professional manner? Surely you can't be suggesting I could possibly treat all the ladies who come in with the same admiration and attentiveness that I show to a vision like yourself?"

Manx smiled, a minute curling of the corner of her mouth. "I'm sure you do. How much for the flowers?"

Yohji named the price and carried out the transaction, never even presenting Ran with an opportunity to take the orchids from Manx as she so obviously wanted him to do. The green-eyed man saw Manx to her car and then re-entered the store. He glanced over at the now recovered Ran as he entered and began to head towards the back of the shop. "I thought I'd carry in the last of the pots and stuff from out back. There's a bunch of orders for arrangements on the table that Omi left, but I figured I'd leave those up to you."

Ran nodded in silent agreement and made his way over to the table to make a start on the displays. He worked quietly, with his usual attention to detail and soon became completely absorbed in his work. He was vaguely aware of Yohji's pleasant voice laughing and flirting with the customers, but the man never called him over to help so Ran assumed the blond was able to handle the crowds.

The next thing he was aware of was the clacking sound as Yohji drew down the metal shutter. Blinking, the redhead stepped away from the now completed displays to find the shop empty and closed. Yohji grinned at him from over by the door, leaning on a broom. "Times flies, eh? Tell you what though; I could really go for a coffee. Want one?"

Not sure why the smile had such a reassuring effect on him, Ran nodded as he placed the last of the arrangements in the chilled units where they would keep fresh overnight. There was nothing left to do in the shop, so the younger man simply turned and headed up to the kitchen. The coffee was already sitting beside the coffee maker so Ran carefully spooned the dark ground beans into the machine and put the water in. He heard Yohji enter behind him and rather than face the blond in his already unsettled mood, the redhead began to reach up to grab a couple of mugs out of the cupboard.

Just before his hand reached the couple, another tanned one brushed against it. The feel of that warm and soft skin against his own still shocked Ran just as much as it had in the hospital when Yohji had first awakened. Ran quickly withdrew his hand with a slight hitch in his breath as he turned his head to see Yohji inches away from him. The blond smiled apologetically, as his eyes flickered to Ran's side and then back to his face. "Sorry," the taller man said, cheerfully as his own fingers closed about the handles of two mugs and brought them down to the kitchen worktop. "Didn't mean to bump you."

Having got the mugs, Yohji moved slightly further away from Ran, allowing the redhead to breathe more easily. Concerned green eyes watched him for a moment, before the blond turned back to the mugs. "You look shattered, must be all those night shifts at the hospital. Why don't you sit down while I pour the coffee? It's not something I can screw up."

"Aa." Ran sank into one of the chairs as he watched the blond. It hadn't occurred to him until now, but Ran hadn't had to stretch or bend for anything throughout his shift. All the heavy objects had been moved by Yohji, all the high items up on shelves had been fetched by Yohji. Yohji had pulled down the shutters, had swept the floor, had hauled about the bags of fertiliser and the clay pots and now had grabbed the coffee mugs. Ran hadn't noticed it at the time as the blond had found completely legitimate reasons to justify his actions. But the more the redhead dwelled on the manner, the more he became convinced that Yohji had been deliberately preventing Ran from carrying out those chores in much the same manner as he had prevented Manx from discovering Ran's injured state. The redhead bit his lip as he glared at his hands through narrowed violet eyes. Just why would the man do that unless he knew that Ran was hurt? And even then, why not mention the fact to Ran?

"Here." A cup of coffee was placed in front of him, breaking Ran's musing. He looked up to see Yohji slide into the seat opposite him, offering the pale man a small smile as he blew on his coffee to cool it down. "I don't know how you take it, so I just gave it to you black."

Ran nodded his head and closed his hands around the china, feeling the warmth of the liquid. "Black's fine."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The hotel foyer was completely anonymous in its expensive marble floors with rich plum carpeting. Away from the mahogany reception desk with it's brass fittings, was a small lounge area with low backed couches and coffee tables. Yohji looked around at the foyer, aware of a sense of familiarity but unable to recognise any distinctive detail that might reveal its name or location. Behind the receptionist stood a tall Western man, with dark, neatly groomed hair and glasses. His attention was rigidly fixed on the large plasma screen television on the wall behind Yohji. Yohji glanced at it, but the succession of news reports held no interest for him as he was unable to place any names or faces.

_In the lounge area a group of five people were sat around one of the coffee tables. Yohji decided to approach them in the hopes of gleaning some piece of information from them. A young teenaged boy was serving drinks to them, the heavy tray with drinks appearing almost more than his slender form could carry. As Yohji neared the seated group, the youth passed him on the way back to the bar and Yohji saw that beneath the dark hair were delicate features and large blue eyes. The boy paid no more attention to Yohji than the man behind the reception desk did._

_The group of five people, an elderly man flanked by two younger men and opposite a teenager and a woman in what looked like her twenties looked up at the blond's approach. The woman frowned in his general direction, though her black eyes seemed unable to focus on him at all. "You."_

_Yohji froze in place, not sure whether to be relieved that someone had finally noticed his presence, or intimidated by the cold tone of the raven-haired woman's voice. The other four were all staring at him with expressions that were hard to read, but unlikely to be pleased at his appearance._

_"You should leave," the teenaged girl commented. Her attention turned back to the sand that she was running through her fingers. She tossed her head, messy strands of multi-coloured hair falling across most of her face. "It's not time for you to be here."_

_"Go," urged one of the young men, the one dressed in a variety of clothes that seemed to cover as much of his skin as was humanly possible. He waved a gloved hand at Yohji in a shooing motion. "It is dangerous for you to stay."_

_"If you stay the black will return," confirmed the dark woman, her gaze still not focusing on Yohji's face._

_Yohji took a step back, unnerved by their words. From across the lobby, the phone on the reception desk began to ring, loud piercing trills that seemed to jolt Yohji's chest. The Westerner made no effort to answer it, and the five people on the sofas had turned their attention away from Yohji, equally unconcerned by the intrusive noise._

_More out of a desire to stop the ringing than anything else, Yohji crossed over to the phone. With a final glance at the receptionist, who still hadn't moved his attention away from the television, the blond picked up the receiver and held it to his ear. "Hello?"_

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yohji flicked open his eyes, wondering why his breathing was so rapid. He gradually forced himself into a more relaxed state and glanced over at the clock. 1:45. The blond groaned quietly and dropped an arm over his eyes. Why did he keep waking up in the middle of the night? Had he been some sort of nocturnal, all-night barfly before the accident or something? Not that the idea didn't have it's merits, but with a morning shift to contend with, Yohji could really do with getting a full night's sleep.

He debated trying to get back to sleep again, but his mind had now woken up, and Yohji could feel himself becoming more alert. Yohji sighed heavily and rolled out of bed. Perhaps a quick trip to the kitchen for a drink would be a good idea. Anything was better than simply lying in bed, waiting to feel sufficiently tired to sleep.

A light on in the kitchen and the distinctive aroma of coffee revealed that Yohji was not the only member of the household out of bed at this hour of the night. Glad of the company and still feeling strangely unsettled from his sudden wakefulness, the blond ambled into the kitchen with a lazy grin. "Looks like I'm not the only one who can't sleep." Then he mentally kicked himself as he saw Ran sitting at the table in a pair of black silk pyjamas and gazing at the blond in faint shock.

Quickly recovering, the redhead adopted his more usual remote expression and raised the coffee mug in front of him to his lips. His eyes followed Yohji as the taller man headed towards the cupboard that held the mug. "The coffee's freshly made if you want some."

Yohji paused, unsure what to make of the remark or the lack of usual coldness in Ran's voice. "Uh, thanks, but I'm still hoping to get some sleep tonight. I have an early shift in the Koneko tomorrow."

Ran grimaced slightly, and Yohji couldn't help but notice how one arm was wrapped around his chest. "We won't be opening tomorrow. Ken can deliver the arrangements in the morning, but Omi has coursework to complete and Manx will probably want to check your progress at the hospital."

Yohji grinned. "In that case…" He poured himself a mug of coffee and sat down opposite Ran, noting that as he did, the redhead carefully removed his arm form his injured side and placed it down on the table. Ran didn't want Yohji to pick up on his injury, it seemed, and the blond knew better than to comment on it. Actually, he'd been surprised he'd gotten away with so much today and had a sneaking suspicion the testy redhead hadn't been fully with it. Yohji was sure that if Ran had so much as suspected that Yohji was deliberately trying to help Ran avoid straining his injury, he'd have been chewed out so loudly that half of Tokyo could have heard what an irritating bastard he was.

The pair drank their coffee in silence for a while before Ran cleared his throat slightly. Raising an eyebrow, Yohji looked over with curious green eyes to meet a purple gaze that quickly dropped back to the wooden tabletop. The redhead frowned for a moment, then looked up at Yohji with a more normal, neutral expression. "How is your memory? Is anything returning?"

Yohji paused for a moment, unsure of how to respond to the awkward attempt at conversation, before mentally shrugging. "Complete blank, in truth," the blond confessed with a wry grin. "I'd really thought something would have come back by now, but I obviously haven't seen anything familiar enough to trigger a memory." Yohji drank some more of his coffee before looking over at Ran. "It might never come back, right?"

Ran regarded him for a moment, an unfathomable expression in his eyes before shrugging. "It's rare, but there have been cases where the subject never regained his memory. Does that bother you?"

Yohji echoed Ran's shrug. "Not really. Obviously, I'll be pissed if I find out I'm supposed to be a millionaire or a rock star and am being deprived of some fabulous lifestyle somewhere, but that's not likely. The more important I was, the more likely it is that someone would have recognised me. I'm starting to work out what sort of things I like and don't like, so it's not like I'm totally deprived of an sense of identity."

The redhead nodded. "That's good."

Another silence passed before Yohji spoke up. "So, you specialise in cases like mine at the hospital? Or just all sorts of head injury?"

Ran paused before answering. "My field of expertise is fairly limited to neurological injuries which have led to psychological disorders. I know more about psychology than the medical side of it though, which is why I work at the hospital."

Yohji went to drink some more of his coffee, only to find that his mug was empty. He replaced it on the table and pushed it slightly away form himself. "So have you met a lot of people like me in your work?"

Ran drained the last of his own coffee. "A fair few." He glanced over at the slightly pensive blond. "More coffee?"

Yohji nodded absently, then suddenly jerked up as he noticed Ran getting out of his chair and moving to pick up the mugs. "I'll get them," he hastily said as he reached for his own mug.

His fingers were slapped away by Ran's hand and the blond looked up to meet a glare of sub-arctic amethyst. "I'm quite capable, I assure you," Ran replied coolly in a voice that left no doubt in Yohji's mind that the redhead was now fully aware of the blond's behaviour during the day. The redhead carried the mugs over to the coffee pot and busied himself with pouring out more of the steaming liquid, his back resolutely to Yohji. "Thank you anyway, Kudoh-san."

Yohji grinned at the tightly controlled expression of gratitude. "How many times, it's Yohji – ok?"

Ran turned back to the table and placed Yohji's mug down in front of him. "Ok … Yohji."

The blond's grin widened as he watched the redhead sit back down. "See? That wasn't so hard was it, Ran?"

The smaller man stiffened slightly at the use of his name and regarded Yohji through narrowed eyes. "Hn," he grunted, but there was no real venom in it.

Yohji relaxed back in his seat as he watched the other man drink his coffee in silence, his earlier unease forgotten.

TBC


	5. Chapter Five

Force of Habit: Chapter Five

Author's Note: Okay, apologies to how long this part took to get posted, but it wasn't entirely my fault. As of the first of October I moved to Germany to study Germanistik at university here and found myself buried under a ridiculous amount of forms for residence permits and the like. In addition, it's taken a while to find somewhere where I can get online and upload documents as the internet computers in my apartment block don't have either A: or D: drives. Grrrrr, but as a result of the enforced hiatus, this part is LONG. Hope that makes up for the absence. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Manx smiled at Yohji reassuringly as she watched the man lie back on the bed and allow the nurses to place electrodes around his head. "This will be completely painless, Kudoh-san. We simply want to measure your mental activity to determine how well you are recovering from your accident." She turned to the other occupant of the room and glared slightly. "Though I fail to see why you are here, Fujimiya-san. Do you not have work in the florists today?"

Yohji glanced over at the silent man in the corner and grinned at Manx's expression. "Ran decided to keep the shop closed today and give us all some time to ourselves," he explained when it became clear that the violet eyed man had no intention of responding. "And as Ken's teaching the neighbourhood kids football and Omi has to study, that only leaves Ran to show me around the city."

Manx looked positively taken aback. "Fujimiya-san decided …" Quickly adopting her usual professional manner, Manx curled her blood-red lips up into what could have been a smile. "It's nice to know the pair of you are getting on. Now, we are going to show you a succession of images, Kudoh-san, and use the electrodes to gauge any reaction from the memory centres of your brain."

Yohji frowned. "Wouldn't it just be quicker to see if I recognise anything you show me?"

Manx turned away to face the computer screen as her fingers flew over the keyboard in readiness for the test. "Consciously, perhaps. But this will also weigh your sub-conscious into the equation. In short, we will be able to tell if the memories are still there and you are simply unable to access them at this time, or if they have been destroyed by the trauma relating to your accident."

"You mean whether there's any chance of me regaining some memories or not?"

"Precisely, Kudoh-san. Now just relax and don't try to force yourself, you'll only end up inhibiting the machine. Focus on the images projected in front of you."

Yohji did as instructed, but couldn't help but wonder what he was supposed to remember from images that ranged from numerous foreign cities to politicians and other well-known public figures. Although he knew most of the images, he was unable to recall any personal information from them, though, he reflected as a katana of all things flashed up before him, perhaps that wasn't such a bad thing. 

Manx continued to make notes from the computer readout once the images had ceased, paying little attention to the room's other occupants. Ran rose from his seat in the corner with his usual feline grace and made his way over to Yohji. He paused at the side of the bed, looking down at the blond with yet another inscrutable expression on his face. "Remember anything?" Ran enquired as he reached out to remove the electrodes from the blond.

Yohji opened his mouth to answer, but instead found himself flinching away from the redhead's elegant fingers. Ran hastily withdrew his hands as he looked at Yohji with the wide-eyed violet stare that the man seemed to reserve only for the blond. The expression on that pale face was mirrored on Yohji's own. With a vague frown clouding his face, Yohji shook his head. "Sorry, guess I just don't feel comfortable in hospitals. My nerves are all on edge at the moment."

Ran nodded slowly in understanding, yet his eyes continued to scrutinise Yohji in a way that made the older man feel very uncomfortable. Finally, Fujimiya slowly reached out his hands once again and began to remove the trailing wires. Yohji watched Ran's face as the man methodically removed each of the electrodes, wondering why the remote look of complete concentration on those pale features could be so at odds with the way in which the redhead's fingers gently brushed away strands of hair to remove the small pads as painlessly and as quickly as possible.

Keen to disguise his sudden discomfort, Yohji glanced over at Manx with a lop-sided smile. "So, am I done?"

Manx barely looked up from the computer readouts. "For now, at least. The results will take a while to compute, Kudoh-san, but I shall let you know as soon as possible."

Yohji nodded, less concerned with learning the outcome of the tests than getting away from the hospital. He swung himself off the bed and turned to the still silent Fujimiya. "Let's get out of here, I have a pay-check to spend. Though," Yohji added with a sly grin as glanced at the bulky orange sweater and jeans that Fuijimiya was wearing. "I'm not sure if you're the best person to show me where the fashionable places are."

"Hn," Ran snorted, throwing Yohji a glare that seemed more for appearances sake than out of any real rancour. Yohji's smirk grew as he turned to follow the redhead out of the room.

"One moment please, Fujimiya-san. While you're here, I wish to discuss some case details with you. Kudoh-san, if you could be so kind as to wait outside for a moment? I promise I won't keep him long."

Yohji and Ran traded glances as the blond shrugged. "Sure. Whatever." He patted Ran on the shoulder as he left, noting that for once the smaller man didn't stiffen at his touch. Though that was probably due to the fact that the entire focus of Ran's hostile vibes was currently being directed at Manx and he therefore didn't register the brief moment of contact.

Leaving the two redheads behind, Yohji sauntered out into the corridor. In actual fact, he was glad to have a moment to himself as there was something fluttering around his thoughts which was bothering him. It was too vague for him to identify, little more than a sense of unease and restlessness. Propping himself against the wide window ledge as he gazed at the throngs of people down below, the irritating fluttering in his head seemed to grow stronger for a moment and the blond felt himself shiver. It felt as though someone had just walked over his grave. There was an air of familiarity about that sense of a whispering voice in his head, perhaps it was a memory or his past self trying to make itself known, but whatever the voice was saying, it was too quiet to hear. Shaking his head, the sense of otherness in his mind was abruptly gone and Yohji leaned his forehead against the cool glass just in time to hear the door open behind him. A blur of crimson reflected in the glass beside him as Ran stepped up to join him.

"Is there something wrong, Yohji?"

Stepping back from the window, the blond shook his head again and threw Ran a laid back grin. "Nah, just thinking."

"Don't strain yourself."

Yohji blinked at the man beside him in surprise. Ran's face was as unreadable as ever, and his voice had lacked any intonation to indicate emotion, but the blond was almost positive the man had cracked a joke. Well, either that or he had a really low opinion of Yohji. The two men headed towards the elevator, falling into step behind an extremely thin young man that appeared to be far too warmly dressed for the time of year. Yohji found himself frowning again as he watched the stiff-backed gait of the stranger. There was something about both the way in which the man moved and the layers of clothes that covered virtually every inch of skin that seemed to stir something in his memory.

Seemingly unaware of the confused stare that was literally burning a hole in the back of his head, the young man ahead of them stepped into an open elevator, drawing his arms tightly against his body as he did so as if to avoid any possible contact with the other occupants. Ran and Yohji followed him in, turning to face the closing doors before Yohji could see the stranger's face. Pressed next to Ran by the large crush of bodies, Yohji found himself worrying less about strangely dressed men and more about how to remain upright during the lift's jerking descent without grabbing hold of one very temperamental redhead.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Well? Have you found anything yet, or are we going to have to find ourselves a new mastermind?"

His concentration broken, Schuldig opened his eyes to glare green daggers at the immaculately dressed American who was currently leaning back in the seat opposite, sipping on a coffee. The German bit back the urge to snap at the man, choosing instead to turn and regard the passing stream of pedestrians through the coffee bar's windows. "You could have chosen somewhere a little quieter," he muttered as he stirred another packet of sugar into his now cold coffee. "It's hard enough to concentrate as it is, let alone look for Void."

Crawford replaced his own cup neatly on the saucer. "You've known the man the longest, you should know what his mind feels like by now."

"I'll tell you what his mind feels like, a fucking black hole, that's what," Schuldig retorted, not caring about the shocked looks his language and tone were attracting. Crawford was frowning at him slightly in rebuke, but the German tossed back his hair and snorted. "Trying to find him could take forever."

"Then you had better start again soon," the American replied. "Our superiors are already aware of the situation and will not look favourably any perceived failings in our attempts to relocate Void."

Schuldig glanced over at Crawford, startled. "Shit. Esset know? How? It's not like they can predict Void's movements."

"The Delphic Unit became concerned about a week ago when they began predicting the elimination of Schwarz by a group of outsiders who obviously had inside help from a member of our group. When they were unable to identify the traitor, they realised it had to be Void. I'm expected to answer directly to Janus himself." Frowning again, Crawford adjusted his glasses. "However they were no more able to account for his actions, than I was."

Unable to stop himself, Schuldig shivered. "They're not sending Janus over, are they? That guy's got an even bigger stick rammed up his arse than you. I remember when I first arrived at Rosenkreuz; he was the first person I met. Those eyes of his completely-"

Not really listening to the man, it took Crawford a few moments to notice that his companion had abruptly stopped speaking. The American assassin glanced up to see the German frowning in concentration. The redhead's frown deepened before he suddenly pitched forwards and grabbed at his head. "Shit!"

"What is it?" Crawford asked, watching the other man as Schuldig blinked rapidly and shook his head, causing the overlong strands of orange to fly across his face. "What's wrong? Did you find Void?"

"I felt a mind that seemed familiar," Schuldig began with a frown. "It could have been Void, but it also wasn't."

Crawford sighed slightly in impatience. "Explain. Clearly. Was it Void, or wasn't it?"

Schuldig glared back at his fellow Schwarz member. "He was sane for a start. Think of the amount of minds I've been in contact with since that blond bastard was last in full command of his wits and you might understand why I'm having a little difficulty in being certain." Pausing, Schuldig poured another packet of sugar into his coffee and began to grind the granules against the side of his cup with the back of his spoon. "But that wasn't the problem."

"Oh? Do enlighten me." Crawford matched the glare that was being directed at him with one of equal coldness. He had no time for idle chitchat when Janus was breathing down his neck.

"It would appear we're not the only ones hunting Void," Schuldig said with deliberate slowness, clearly determined to wind the older man up as much as was humanly possible. "The reason I couldn't stay in there long enough to make certain of Void's identity was due to the fact that someone obviously has the bastard monitored and sent someone to block me. Legion, to be precise."

Crawford muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a curse. "If that neurotic fop is here, then the rest of them can't be far off."

Schuldig nodded as he watched the expressions that flittered across his leader's face, wishing yet again that he could simply read the man's mind. "You reckon they'll try and take him again?"

Crawford shrugged minutely. "We shall have to wait and see. If we knew where Void was, we may stand a better chance of tracking him. Our only lead there is, of course, that rather stubborn swordsman who refused to just lay down and die," Crawford broke off at the smirk that was spreading across the German's face. "What?"

"It just so happens, I think I found something of interest in that matter," Schuldig replied. "Or rather someone."

Crawford raised an eyebrow, silently encouraging the man to continue.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Ran leaned back against a nearby pillar and watched the blond with something approaching amusement. "Are you planning on spending your life in clubs, or will you actually buy something that covers more than a fraction of your chest?"

Grinning Yohji picked up his latest bag of clothes and winked at the smaller man. "If you've got it, flaunt it, Ran." With a final flirty wave to the blushing sales assistant, the tall man walked over to stand beside the redhead. "Up for a coffee break? I'm exhausted."

Ran shrugged, which Yohji correctly interpreted as assent, and the two men began to make their way down the busy street. Glancing over at the smaller man, Yohji frowned slightly in concern as he noted the pensive expression on Ran's face. 'Hey, is there something wrong? If you'd rather do something else, you can go. I'm pretty certain I can find my way back from here."

Ran blinked in surprise at the pair of worried green eyes that were regarding him from such a close distance. Glancing away, he shook his head, vaguely wondering why he was having to fight the urge to blush. "It's nothing. Let's get that coffee. There's a very good café just around the corner from here."

Yohji's face split into another grin, this time one of relief. "Man, if it impressed you, this place must be superb!" Turning his attention away from the redhead for a few moments, the taller man began to rummage in one of his bags and triumphantly pulled out a pair of sunglasses, which he balanced on the end of his nose. Peering at the pale redhead, Yohji grinned at the shocked expression on the man's face. "Pretty cool, aren't they?"

Ran fought to control the sudden wave of panic that swept through him and chose to disguise it with a scowl and a snort. "Idiot. Summer's already over, what did you waste your money on those for?"

The blond shrugged and continued to regard the crowds around him over the top of the tinted lenses. "I don't know; they just seemed to call out to me. I think they really suit me."

"They make you look like you're vain." _They make you look like you're Void_. Ran noted they had finally reached the café and busied himself with making his way through the bustle of customers to reach his usual table. Despite his best attempts to focus on the blond only as he appeared now, Ran kept finding Yohji's smiling face being overlaid with another one from his memory. A face completely without expression, surrounded by long waves of blond hair and a pair of tinted glasses effectively blocking the man's eyes from sight. Mentally berating himself for being such an idiot, Ran forced his gaze back to Yohji and passed the slightly concerned looking man the menu. "Here. I recommend the Viennese Blend, it's strong without being bitter."

Something in Ran's face must have set Yohji at ease, as he visibly relaxed and accepted the menu with another careless grin. "Bit of a caffeine addict, are we? Must be all those night shifts you work." The blond pushed his sunglasses slightly higher up on his nose to prevent them from falling off and focused on the large selection of coffees on offer. "Still, you must really love your work. It must be great to know that you're helping people; saving lives and all that."

Ran turned away to look out of the window, trying to keep his face neutral. "It's just a job. And you can never save everyone. However much good you do, at the end of the day, there's still blood on your hands." Reflected on the glass, he could see Yohji frowning at him.

"You always are so negative about things," the taller man observed. "I know if I had the chance to do some good like you do, I'd focus on all the people who were living better lives because I helped them, rather than the few that I couldn't do anything for."

The waitress showed up at that moment, depriving Ran of the chance to answer. Bowing low in apology, the teenaged waitress smiled at the two men, strands of hair dyed in rainbow shades escaping from her tied back hair. "I'm terribly sorry to have kept you waiting, but we've been very busy today. May I take your order, or would you like me to come back in a few minutes?"

Yohji glanced across at Ran. "I'll take the Viennese Blend in a large cup, please."

Ran nodded at the waitress. "Make that two."

The young girl scribbled hastily on her pad. "Two large Viennese. It won't be long." With another smile, she vanished off into the crowd in a flurry of activity.

Feeling Yohji's gaze on him, Ran looked up warily. His suspicion was increased at the sight of the grin the blond was aiming in his direction. "What do you want?"

Yohji's grin widened. "Well," he drawled slowly, obviously savouring the expression on the face of the man opposite him. "I was thinking that with all this coffee in our systems we won't be needing to sleep tonight. And we are in Tokyo, after all, it would be a waste not to experience some of the nightlife."

Ran snorted and turned his attention back to the passing stream of people outside. "Absolutely not. You'll have to find someone else to lead you into depravity."

Yohji wasn't dissuaded. "Aw, come on! We could get Ken and Omi to come along as well, do something with all four of us." Catching the violet-eyed man glancing towards him, Yohji gazed at him imploringly with wide green eyes. "We haven't done anything all together since I got here, it doesn't have to be the whole night if you have to work or something."

Ran opened his mouth to refuse, but found himself hesitating under the force of those pleading eyes. "I guess dinner wouldn't hurt," he heard himself grudgingly concede and kicked himself for giving in to man. Now the blond was going to think he could walk all over Ran just by turning on the charm. Keen to temper his earlier statement, Ran glared at the smirking man with the most chilling gaze he could currently muster. "But I should remind you that you have a morning shift tomorrow that you will be present for, hung over or not."

Not in the least bit perturbed by the glare that was being levelled at him, Yohji leaned back in his seat, content in his victory. "Great, we'll have to talk to Ken and Omi, see what they're up for. Me, I could really go for steak."

The waitress abruptly appeared again, carrying two large steaming cups that she carefully placed on the table. "There you are, two large Viennese. Let me know if there's anything else you'd like."

Ran raised an eyebrow. "That was awfully quick. It normally takes twice as long."

Smiling, the waitress shrugged, brushing some blue and pink bangs away from her face and behind her ear. "Like I said, we've been very busy today. I think we've all got into the routine of working twice as fast to deal with the rush. Enjoy your coffees."

There was a brief silence as both men sipped at their coffees. Finding his a touch too hot at the moment, Yohji replaced his on the table. Ran continued to drink his, the hot liquid serving as a sufficient distraction from the thoughts and emotions that had been troubling him since his conversation with Manx earlier. He couldn't work out how he felt about Yohji. He knew he was warming to the easy-going, if somewhat flirtatious, man despite himself, but underneath that was a tangled mess of confused emotions. Wariness and unease that the man was getting past his guard so easily, backed up by the worry that he had brought this all on himself by being the one to introduce this new personality into the man. There was also more than a little envy. He'd given Kudoh a clean slate; a fresh shot at living a normal life unhampered by any of the guilt or haunting memories that Ran himself suffered from. Perhaps that also explained the protectiveness he felt towards Yohji whenever Kritiker showed an interest; having freed the man from the clutches of Schwarz, Ran was understandably reluctant to simply let Kudoh get tainted once again by dealing with yet another organisation that sent its operatives out to kill. In the end, it was probably the same reason he hadn't simply made the man into a compliant puppet and handed the strings to Kritiker. Unlike the rest of them, Yohji now had the chance to choose his life.

Glancing across towards Yohji, Ran noticed the blond was looking at him expectantly. "What?"

Yohji rolled his eyes and took a large drink of his coffee. "You weren't even listening, were you? Man, when you brood, you really go for it, don't you?"

Ran frowned slightly. "Did you ask me something or are you just trying to get a rise out of me?"

Yohji laughed. "I can get a rise out of you without trying anytime I want. You're far too uptight." Smiling at the glaring redhead in amusement, Yohji shook his head. "I asked if you had any idea what time Ken and Omi were meant to be getting back to the Koneko."

"Ah," Ran drained the last of his coffee before turning his attention back to the older man. "Anytime now. It's starting to get dark, so Ken will see the kids home and Omi should be back already. Apparently he gets hassled by schoolgirls if he stays in the library too long."

The blond man grinned. "All that attention from cute schoolgirls and he wants to run off home? If I was him, you couldn't drag me away."

Ran snorted slightly. "Perhaps some of us are a little more conscientious towards our work than you."

Yohji simply smirked. "And perhaps some of us need to live a little."

The smaller man sighed as he brushed some crimson bangs away from his eyes and looked at Yohji expectantly. "Finished?"

Rolling his eyes, Yohji gulped down the last of his coffee and reached to get his wallet as he rose out of his seat. A hand on his arm stopped him, and he looked up to see Ran watching him calmly with his usual unreadable expression. "I'll get the coffees this time," the redhead quietly offered. "I doubt you've got enough left in that wallet to even buy water."

Yohji blinked in surprise at the offer, before winking at the other man. "Trying to buy my affections with coffee? I'm touched."

Ran rolled his eyes and headed over to the waitress from earlier who was now refilling the sugar bowls. Yohji collected his bags from around the table and turned to watch the redhead pay and begin to make his way back towards the blond as the waitress with the multicoloured hair resumed pouring the pale granules into glass bowls. Something about the movement of the sugar from the young girl's hands looked familiar to Yohji, and he idly wondered if he spent much time in coffee bars before his accident. Ran's appearance at his side jolted the lanky blond back to the present. Both men headed out of the now emptying coffee bar, Yohji glancing back at the waitress as he crossed in front of her. The girl looked up and noticed his gaze, for she smiled cheerily. "Bye, come back soon!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

With a contented sigh, Ken dropped the last garlic breadstick into his mouth and leaned back in his seat. After much bargaining between Yohji and Omi, who had proved himself to have begging powers exceeding even that of the elder man's, the group had decided on pizza. The two younger florists had been very keen to eat out and escape from what Omi described as "the terror of Ken's cooking", the fumes alone of which, Yohji had been assured, "could kill from ten metres away."

Unconcerned with any slight done to his culinary prowess, Ken grinned across at Yohji. "Okay, you've gotta tell me how you managed to convince our very own man of ice to come out and pretend he's a normal human being."

Smirking both at the brunette and the glaring redhead, Yohji airily waved a hand in the air. "I didn't have to do anything, Ken. This was actually Ran's idea."

From his position beside Ken, Omi began to choke on a mouthful of pizza. Finally managing to swallow his mouthful, courtesy of a couple of helpful thumps on the back by Hideka, the young blond stared across the table at the silent Fujimiya and grinning Kudoh. "Ran suggested we go out?" Omi repeated in complete disbelief. His wide blue eyes blinked before narrowing at the taller blond in suspicion. "What did you threaten him with, Yohji?"

"He didn't threaten me with anything," Ran countered in his usual low voice. "He simply pointed out that we haven't gone out as a group since he arrived."

"That was it?" Ken asked sceptically. "How come it never works when Omi or I ask?"

Yohji shrugged as he drained the last of his beer. "It must simply be the old Kudoh charm, never fails."

Ran simply snorted and turned his attention back to the slice of pizza on his plate, picking off the thin pieces of topping and leaving them to one side.

Omi glanced at Ran before turning his attention to Yohji. "How are you adjusting to everything after your accident?"

Ken nodded in agreement. "Yeah, have you remembered anything yet?"

Yohji shook his head as he played with the empty beer glass. "Not a thing … well nothing concrete. I keep getting the strangest feelings every now and then, like I'm looking at something I should recognise, but I can't." Noticing that Ran had ceased pretending to eat his food and was instead simply staring at his plate, Yohji frowned for a moment. Okay so Violet Eyes probably felt like he had a personal interest in Yohji's case, what with having spent an awful lot of time with him, but sometimes Yohji couldn't work out what results the man was hoping for. At this very moment, for instance, the redhead looked almost tense at the thought that Yohji might be starting to remember things. It struck the blond as very strange, surely the smaller man should be feeling tense at the thought of Yohji not regaining his memories, instead of the other way around? After all, wasn't he supposed to be one of Ran's cases? Turning attention away from the pale figure next to him, Yohji smiled instead at the obvious sympathy and disappointment on Omi's face. "Hey, it's not all bad, chibi. That idea you had about trying lots of different things to work out what my tastes were was a stroke of genius. I may not know who I was, but at least I know who I am now."

Ken grinned at the expression on Yohji's face. "And that is?"

"An extremely sexy lady-killer, Ken." Yohji emphasised his point with a wink and a charming smile towards the dazed looking waitress that was approaching their table. 'And one who's about to get another phone number to add to his black book, by the look of things."

Ignoring the flirting going on between the elder blond and the waitress that was showing far more interest in securing Yohji's phone number than in clearing the remains of the meal, Ran fixed Omi and Ken with a penetrating violet glare. "Do either of you know if Manx phoned while I was out?"

Both younger men shook their heads as Omi frowned slightly at the expression on the redhead's face. "Not that we know of. Why? Were you expecting some news?"

Ran nodded slightly. "She had some important information on a case for me that we needed to discuss."

Ken groaned. "She doesn't want you to work again tonight, does she? You know I can't cover your morning shift."

"I don't need to work tonight, I just need to speak with her." Ran frowned at the tablecloth as though the innocuous piece of fabric was personally responsible for Manx not phoning. 

Trying to lessen the Fujimiya glare, Omi leaned forwards and smiled sympathetically. "Don't worry, you can always speak to her tomorrow. I'm sure it can wait until then."

Ran glanced at Omi briefly and then away across the restaurant. "It'll have to."

Rejoining the conversation with a slip of paper held loosely between his fingers, Yohji smirked at the others. "Looks like I won't be heading home with you guys. Keiko finishes her shift in ten minutes and is _very_ keen to show me some of the local nightlife."

Ken frowned, immediately realising the implications of the statement. "Don't expect me to cover your shift tomorrow morning. I've already made plans."

Yohji rolled his eyes. "Relax Ken, one all-nighter isn't going to kill me. I'll be in the Koneko tomorrow morning, just maybe not tonight."

The brunette laughed. "That's a very confident statement considering you've only just met the girl."

"I am a very confident person," Yohji countered. "And anyway, how else am I going to find out what my type is?" Readjusting his sunglasses, Yohji winked at Omi. "It's exactly the same principle as with the music."

Shaking his head, Ken got up from the table. "That's your excuse anyway. Well, enjoy yourself and don't even think of trying the 'I forgot where the Koneko is' line. 

Yohji laughed and watched the other three pay and leave before turning his gaze to the approaching Keiko, whose very nicely proportioned figure was even easier to appreciate out of her uniform. Yes, the blond mused, tonight was going to be a lot of fun.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gritting his teeth, Ran blinked the sweat out of his eyes as he focused along the elegant line of the katana. The only sounds in the basement were his breathing and the quiet whisper of the sword's movement through the air. Immediately after returning from the restaurant, Ran had descended into the basement to practise with his katana. Now several hours later his body was moving through the positions independently of the redhead's troubled mind, the muscles automatically remembering the graceful motions.

Ran was not worried. He was absolutely fine. Manx's earlier words were not going to cause him any extra stress. Fujimiya Ran did not get panicked about possibilities. The blade of the katana flashed in the light as it was swung in an arc.

//_ Having successfully completed the kill and obtained the important data file, Ran hurried back along the narrow passageway that would take him back into the central storage area of the warehouse. His eyes and ears were alert for any guards that may have appeared since he entered, but Ran was feeling confident. His first mission as an assassin had been completed without a hitch; he had proved himself. His quiet sense of satisfaction carried him all the way into the cavernous expanse of the main storage room and past the first set of crates. Then he realised he wasn't alone and spun around, drawing up his sword protectively, the metal glinting off the moonlight that poured in through the high windows as the blade swung through the air in an arc._

_"What do we have here? It seems someone's been letting in strays." The nasal, accented voice came from one of the walkways above Ran's head. He glanced up to see a European man with bright orange hair leaning over the railing watching him with vast amusement. Beside him stood another man, this one with pale hair and one yellow eye that gleamed malevolently as it regarded the swordsman below. The other man turned to his silent companion. "What do you think we should do with this little kitty?"_

_A smile lit up a face that was already patch-worked with scars. "Make it bleed."_//

A stab forwards and then a swift spin to the left. Void was destroyed. Ran had personally sent the shocks through the electrodes taped to the man's head, destroying the neural pathways that connected up to any memory even remotely concerned with the assassin's past. There was no way Kudoh would be able to access them again, Ran was sure of that. The sword was brought down in a forceful blow and then spun across his body and to his right. His breath burned in his lungs and throat and his muscles were beginning to tremble slightly with exhaustion, but Ran paid them no heed, his thoughts engaged elsewhere. So what if the test results showed activity in those parts of Kudoh's memory centre that should have been destroyed? So what if some unknown urge made the man choose the exact same pair of sunglasses that he had worn as a killer? They didn't mean anything. Ran was not going to blindly follow Manx's orders without some kind of tangible proof. He brought his katana up and noticed distantly that it shook in his weakening grip.

//_ Ducking behind a stack of crates, Ran doubled over as he hurriedly sought to force some air back into his lungs. His grip on his katana trembled and he forced his hands to clench around the hilt. The others would find him any second, this respite had to be used to the maximum advantage. Dragging himself upright, Ran narrowed his eyes as he quickly weighed up the situation. He couldn't beat them. Perhaps maybe just that yellow-eyed maniac by himself, but he was no match for any of the other three out there and especially not together. He was lucky to have even held his own this long, but there was no hope of success in a fight against those assassins with their strange abilities. If Ran wanted to survive, he'd have to find a way out. His sense of pride caused a surge of anger to wash through the man at the thought of turning tail and fleeing like a coward, but escape was the only option. He had what he came for._

_There had been a fire exit back along the passageway to Ran's left; the one that led to the overflow storage room. Glancing in that direction, he saw that the route appeared to be unguarded and broke into a sprint. There was an exclamation behind him in what sounded like German, but Ran didn't know enough of the language to understand what was said. He did know that the nasal laugh that followed him wasn't a good sign, but there was no time to think about that – he was nearing the overflow room. If he could just get out …_

_There was someone waiting for him._ //

Jerking his head roughly to one side in an attempt to dislodge the bangs that had plastered themselves across his eyes, Ran continued to follow the well-practised routine. His still healing side screamed in protest as the muscles stretched and flexed, ripping through stitches and the dried blood. Kudoh was not going to become Void again. The katana continued to glide through the air, the smoothness of its movements a testament to its wielder's determination. Ran was not going to let Kudoh revert to his former self.

//_ Standing in the centre of the room was a tall figure clad in tightly fitted black that clung to his lean and muscled frame. The moonlight from the open door at the far side of the room reflected on long blond hair that cascaded freely down the man's back. His head was bent, his arms loosely at his side in a posture of calm patience. He gave no indication of being aware of Ran's presence, simply continuing to stand there almost as a penitent prays before his god – or a marionette whose strings had yet to be manipulated. Cautiously, Ran moved forwards a single step, his footfall seeming to ring in the silent room._

_The man's head snapped up at the sound, revealing a face whose eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. Not a single muscle on the man's face moved to indicate any emotion or even recognition, it remained blank. Ran felt his hand clench reflexively around his katana. So far this evening he'd encountered two men who'd seemed to know his every move before he made them, one who didn't show any acknowledgement of the injuries Ran had inflicted upon him and a young boy who had somehow been able to fling him against a stack of crates simply by looking at him, but none of them had instilled the sudden sense of dread that now unfurled in the pit of Ran's gut. He needed to see the man's eyes, if only to prove that it was a man that stood before him and not a cleverly made robot._

_One of the man's gloved hands twitched and a slithering, hissing noise broke the silence. Ran felt the katana in his hands jolt away from him and noticed too late the coils of silvery wire that had wrapped around the weapon's hilt. Another tug and the sword was wrenched from his grasp, skittering across the concrete floor to rest at the blond stranger's feet. Without even thinking, Ran surged forwards, intent on regaining his katana. The man simply remained in position as the redhead approached, not showing the slightest hint of either movement or emotion._

_When the man did eventually move, it registered too late in Ran's tired mind. A burning, white hot pain kindled in his chest and the redhead looked down to see the blade of his own katana embedded within him. He looked back up to see his pale, wide-eyed face reflected back at him in the twin mirrors of the blond's sunglasses. Sudden flames of pain scorching a path across his chest caused Ran to cry out as the blade was twisted. The face in front of him never changed; it was as though the man's body was acting independently for even when Ran's second choked cry was forced from his throat, not a muscle moved on that tanned visage._

_Desperate to see something, Ran struck out with his hands, ripping the sunglasses from the man's face. The blond dropped his hold on the katana as the eyewear shattered on the ground, and Ran sank to his knees, taking both sword and wire with his falling form. Looking up, Ran saw the man's eyes were green, a deep shade of emerald. They might even have been beautiful if they weren't so glassy and empty, just as devoid of humanity as the rest of that face._

_Ran felt blood in his mouth and spat on the ground as his hands gripped the katana's hilt. He closed his eyes briefly as he prepared to remove it, before taking a strained breath. Wrenching it from its resting place between his ribs, Ran swung the blade in front of him only to find the blond no longer stood before him._

_No sooner had that fact registered, than something was wrapped around Ran's throat and pulled tight, choking the redhead. It felt almost silken against his skin and Ran realised with shock that it was hair. The bastard's wire was still wrapped around his katana, so the blond was simply using the next best thing to hand. Swinging the katana over his shoulder in a blind stab, Ran heard a slight grunt of expelled air and strands of severed blond hair fell onto his bloodstained coat. Without the choking rope keeping him upright, Ran fell forwards heavily, his katana dropping to the ground beside a hand that lacked the strength to keep hold of it. Clenching his face with the effort, Ran tried to rise to his knees, but the pain in his chest seemed to be constricting his lungs and he was finding every agonising intake of oxygen harder to make than the last._

_A boot edged its way under Ran's chest and kicked, causing the redhead to roll over onto his back. The blond man stood over him, looking down at Ran without even the most basic sense of recognition. The left hand side of the man's hair now hung at shoulder length, the result of Ran's frantic stab. Ran had no idea of how much time passed like that: the blond simply watching the redhead bleed slowly to death on the floor before him with that distant, blank expression._

_Footsteps were heard and the orange haired man from earlier appeared at the blond's side, smirking in amusement as he looked down at Ran. "I see our little kitty ran into you too. Perhaps his employers will finally learn that curiosity killed the cat and stop sending us this irritating strays." Apparently unconcerned with the complete lack of reaction from his blond companion, the other man tilted his head to the side. "Shame really, this is quite a pretty piece of work. He might have been fun to play with, but you know what Oracle is like when it comes to deadlines. We have to go now, his employers are already on their way." The man pulled a gun from his long green coat and passed it to the blond. "Finish him off."_

_Ran saw the gun rise. There was a flash and yet another centre of pain in his chest as he heard the gunshot echo around the room. With another smirk, the orange haired man patted the blond on the shoulder and turned to leave. With a final stare at the redhead, the man dressed in black turned to follow and Ran felt anger beginning to stir in him, fury that they should be able to walk away without a scratch, while he lay bleeding out most of his arteries. His hand clenched, felt the smooth hilt of the katana and closed around it. Gathering reserves of strength that he barely knew he had, Ran forced himself upright and flung the sword after that retreating blond shadow. Unable to remain conscious long enough to even see if it reached its destination, the redhead pitched forwards again and passed out. _//

The katana trembled in his fatigued grip, and fell to the floor with a dull clang. Ran felt his knees buckle and sagged against the wall, dragging oxygen into his lungs. Pausing for a moment, he slowly made his way up the stairs, suddenly acutely aware of his overriding exhaustion and liquid muscles. He pushed open the basement door and headed towards the stairs up to his room, leaning heavily against the wall. There was some noise from the kitchen behind him, but Ran was now only concerned with getting into his room before weariness made him pass out. In the morning he had to talk to Manx, had to convince her that Kudoh wasn't going to become Void. His feet stumbled on the second step and Ran slumped to his knees with a dull thud.

"Hey! Careful!" Warm arms encircled him from behind, helped the redhead back to his feet even as Ran's nose was assaulted by the smell of cigarettes and alcohol. Turning his head, he saw Yohji looking at him with those expressive emerald eyes full of concern and felt something that could have been a vague smile tug at his lips. He'd been right, that first time. Those eyes were beautiful when there was emotion behind them.

"Ran? Shit, Ran, what the hell have you been up to?" Too tired to answer, Ran let his head slump forwards, feeling sleep beginning to overtake him. The arms around him tightened to support the redhead's weight as Yohji obviously realised Ran wasn't going to support his own weight anymore. Eyes now closed, Ran could only feel Kudoh's grip around him, and reflect on how the man had changed. And he wasn't going to change back. Kudoh Yohji was going to remain as he was, Ran would make certain of it. With that thought, the redhead felt slumber overtake him.

TBC


	6. Chapter Six

Force of Habit: Chapter Six

Author's Note (well, more like pointless rambling): First up, the song used here is 'Voices' by the ever energetically psychotic Disturbed, mainly because it was half the reason this chapter was written so quickly and the other half of the reason is being saved for later. Secondly: why have I made Birman so much more human than Manx? Simple, she hasn't spent quite as much time in Ran's warm and welcoming company and therefore still has some patience with the man. ;). And an additional admiring nod to all those people who are making rather astute guesses about certain plot points. As a small reward for some of the impressive piecing together of very subtle clues, I think it's only fair to reveal a little bit more of the various intrigues … and you thought things were complicated enough at the moment. Incidentally, if anyone can guess Yohji's ability – major kudos to you, I'm deliberately being very vague so don't expect me to spell it out any time soon. Apologies for the sudden influx of new characters, but I assure you they are necessary. If it gets too hard to follow who's working for whom, I'll put a little list at the start of the next part – just let me know. But to make up for it, we have awakening fuzzy feelings in Yohji towards Ran … took long enough, right?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yohji looked down at the armful of sleeping glacial redhead he was currently holding and vaguely wondered just how he found himself in these situations. Admittedly, none others quite like this sprang to mind, but the blond was willing to bet that whatever was in his past, it also contained a far amount of abuse at the hands of Lady Luck. Well, there always had to be one female that could resist him.

Ran shifted slightly, rolling his head forwards so that the long crimson strands brushed against his chest. Yohji glanced down at him in exasperation; the man was soaked through and clearly hadn't even slept despite the time being well past 3 in the morning. Well the redhead seemed to be making up for it now, the blond reflected, as continued gentle nudging of the slumped figure he was propping up failed to achieve anything more than an incomprehensible mutter. Not seeing any real alternative, Yohji scooped an arm around the redhead's legs and hoisted the man up into his arms.

The motion caused Ran's head to once again rock to the side, coming to rest against Yohji's exposed collarbone. The blond felt himself freeze as Ran murmured again in his sleep, his lips brushing against Yohji's skin in a way that caused a sensation low in the taller man's gut that he hadn't been expecting. Yohji paused for a moment, looking down at the pale features mostly hidden by the crimson bangs, and wondered why he'd never considered that possibility about himself. A trial move up one step failed to result in any further reaction from Ran, so Yohji simply continued to carry the man to his room. And tried to forget what the feel of those lips against his skin was doing to his lower body.

A clumsy attempt to open Ran's door with both arms more or less filled with said sleeping redhead revealed that the man had locked the door before deciding to wear himself out. Yohji sighed, his breath ruffling the crimson strands under his nose as he rested his chin on the smaller man's head. He might have known the intensely private redhead would have locked his door. Hell, Ran probably locked his door when he was simply going to get a glass of water.

Which left Yohji's room. Turning, the blond reluctantly made his way to his own room and nudged open the door with the toe of his boot. A few short strides and Ran was lowered onto the vast expanse of mattress and sheets Yohji liked to think of as home. Once in contact with the soft bed, Ran sighed slightly and began to stretch out, turning onto his side. A sharp inhalation stopped him and the pale man quickly contracted into a hunched position. Yohji watched on with a puzzled frown until he remembered the nasty gash in Fujimiya's side. A muttered curse escaped his lips. The idiot hadn't been stupid enough to reopen the wound with all that exercise, had he?

Clambering over the smaller form beneath him, Yohji carefully turned Ran back onto his back and began to work the soaked t-shirt away from the redhead's body. The man beneath him moaned softly, and Yohji had to pause, firmly telling his hormones to back off until he'd finished making sure the redhead hadn't done any real damage to himself. Trying to ignore the way the pale body beneath him gasped and writhed as more of Ran's skin came into contact with the air, Yohji removed the t-shirt and threw it carelessly to one side as his eyes immediately noticed the dark stain that was discolouring the bandages wrapped across the redhead's torso. Growling slightly to himself as he shifted off of Ran, Yohji made his way into the bathroom in search of a first aid kit. And thought bad things about stubborn men with crimson hair who should know better.

The first aid kit was relatively easy to find, not least due to its size. Yohji hefted it upwards, reflecting that it was more of a suitcase than a kit, but realising that when there was a medical student in the house, it probably made sense. After all, the blond had seen how clumsy Ken was first hand, without Ran around to patch him up, the boy would probably spend all his wages on hospital bills.

Entering his room again, Yohji opened the large case and rummaged through the vast assortment of goodies inside trying not to think what would happen to Ran should the hospital ever realise how much of their stuff he'd been making off with. Pausing to squint at a small vial, Yohji shook his head. The redhead had to be some kind of kleptomaniac; no one else would ever need local anaesthetic and morphine in a home first aid kit. Either that or someone in the house was into stuff that Yohji really didn't want to know about. With a long apprising gaze at the man softly snoring on his bed, Yohji once again reached out and began to peel away the layers of bandage that Ran had wrapped around his midsection.

The stubborn idiot had indeed managed to rip through most of the stitches in his side, completely ruining the tentative healing process that his body had begun to work on. Yohji swabbed up most of the gore and oozing blood, before deciding that the broken stitches weren't doing Ran any good and began to rummage around for tweezers or something else he could remove them with. Intent on helping the man without either causing him unnecessary pain or allowing himself to focus on the images his hormones were trying to place in his mind, it came as a bit of a shock to Yohji when he realised he was wrapping new layers of bandage around the neatly re-stitched wound. His hands jerked and froze as the blond glanced over to the nightstand and saw a used syringe, a half empty vial and several other of the more advanced parts of the medical kit lying there. Yohji blinked several times, but the sight before his confused green eyes didn't change. Since when did he know how to treat injuries like that?

A soft sigh from the man beneath him as the redhead tried once again to shift onto his side brought Yohji back to the situation at hand. Hurriedly tying off the bandage, Yohji paused as his gaze locked again on the two other scars that marred that otherwise perfect expanse of pale skin. Wondering just why he felt such a strong fascination with the pure white ridges of twisted flesh, Yohji reached out slowly and ran his fingers carefully over them. What had happened to the man, what could possibly have caused such horrible looking wounds? Yohji felt his forehead draw into a frown. Well if he had anything to do with it, whoever had managed to hurt Ran wasn't going to get a second chance. Someone had to keep an eye out for Fujimiya, and it looked like Yohji was going to be the one to do it.

Finally pulling away from the redhead and allowing the man to turn onto his side, Yohji bit back a smile at the expression on the sleeping Ran's face. He would probably go into a killing rage if he ever found out how sweet and innocent he looked, the blond mused, but it was true. Yohji had noticed that mask of detached ice slip every now and then in his company, but when the younger man slept, it vanished completely. Tension that Yohji hadn't even noticed in Ran's features melted away. Coming to himself with a start, the blond realised he was staring at the redhead and hurriedly turned away to find a cigarette, something to occupy his hands and mind with that had nothing to do with the figure in his bed.

Slumping into a nearby chair, Yohji sparked up a cigarette and glanced out of the window. Somewhere out there was his former life, waiting for him to reclaim it and step back into the identity he had made for himself. When he had first woken up, that thought had been the main one he'd occupied himself with, examining everything he knew and said for clues that might lead towards him discovering who he really was. Now he was wondering how that previous Kudoh compared with the current one. Was it someone he'd prefer, the blond wondered tiredly, or was it someone he'd been glad to leave behind?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

His footsteps on the marble floor would no doubt have echoed even more loudly were it not for the thick plum coloured rugs that carpeted much of the hotel foyer. Sat around one of the low coffee tables in the lobby area, was a group of five people. The only noise made in the place apart from Yohji's footsteps, muffled now by the deep carpet he walked on, was the incomprehensible murmur of the large television screen on one wall and a quieter whispering noise, that the blond found hard to place.

_Ignoring the silent man that stood behind the reception desk, Yohji made his way over to the small group of people. A young brunette with delicate features and large blue eyes had just served them coffee; but none of them seemed to be making any move towards drinking the steaming liquid. The youngest member of the seated group, a teenaged girl with strands of brightly coloured hair falling over her face, seemed to be pouring a steady stream of sugar into the cup before her- obviously the cause of the whispering noise Yohji had noticed earlier, but as Yohji neared he saw that in fact the small granules were simply being allowed to fall through her cupped palms onto her lap. It didn't look like sugar anymore either, more like sand. Although she remained focused on the grains running through her hands, the woman beside her glanced up at the blond and frowned slightly. "They want you back," she informed him._

_"Children must have their toys after all," the old man opposite the two women remarked. He shook a pair of dice together in one hand almost absentmindedly before dropping them on the table where they landed on a double six._

_"But of course, some toys have surprises of their own," the young man to his left commented in a slightly distant voice. He shivered slightly, despite the several layers of thick clothing that covered virtually every area of skin. Hunching down further into himself, the thin man looked at Yohji in a way that made the man want to take a step back. "The innocuous package contains a rather nasty jack in the box."_

_"Sometimes one must hide the light beneath the bush, lest it draw the attention of those who would abuse it, mon ami," the other young man informed Yohji with a grave expression. Leaning forward, he scooped up the dice and also shook them in his hand. "And now your covering has been stripped away, you're vulnerable." The dice dropped once more on the table. Snake eyes._

_"Time is running away from you," the young girl added. Yohji glanced away from her and in the reflection provided by the highly polished reception desk could have sworn that the sand was actually flowing upwards into her hands. Turning back to the small group, Yohji decided his eyes must have been playing tricks on him._

_Frowning at the gathering, Yohji took a small step backwards. "Who are you people anyway? Am I supposed to know you?"_

_One of the young men, the one who was dressed relatively normally, let out a small laugh. "We're here to inform you that the blind are seeking you with eyes you're not aware of." Leaning forward he once again scooped the dice from the table. "But we were here first. And we're waiting."_

_Backing away from the group, Yohji jumped as the telephone on the reception desk began to ring loudly. Both the dark haired man behind the desk and the smaller waiter seemed unconcerned with the continual trilling, but something about the noise seemed to cut through to Yohji's core. Hurriedly crossing the expanse of carpet and marble, Yohji yanked the receiver up to his ear. "Yes?"_

_Silence. A distant echo to the absence of sound hinted at water dripping from somewhere, and an even fainter hint of what sounded like a young child sobbing. Yohji strained to make out the noise, when the voice at the other end spoke up sharply, causing the man to jump._

_"I am waiting."_

_"Huh? Waiting for what?" Yohji asked._

_"Waiting for you to tell me who I am." _

_The voice sounded familiar, but damned if Yohji could place it. At the moment he wouldn't even be able to recognise the voice of his own father. With a slight grimace, the blond tried to remain polite. "Shouldn't you be telling me that?"_

_A pause. That distant sound of crying echoing faintly down the line once more. "I can't come back until you tell me who I am."_

_"Are you someone I know? Am I supposed to recognise you?"_

_Silence._

_Yohji sighed in frustration. "Look I'm going to need a bit of a clue or something."_

_Another pause. "I am waiting." The line went dead._

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The first thing Ran was aware of was that he ached. Everywhere. He tried to move and groaned slightly as his muscles sent their displeasure at the request screaming through his nerve endings. The second and third things he became aware of were the deep steady breathing that was not his own and the overpowering smell of cigarette smoke. His eyes flew open in alarm.

The facts began to make themselves known at a rapid rate as violet eyes took in the immediate details. He was not in his room. He was not in the basement where he last remembered being with any clarity. He was in Yohji's room. He appeared to have lost his shirt. His shirt was lying in a crumpled heap to one side of the bed. Ran did not leave his clothes lying in crumpled heaps so he was clearly not the one who removed the aforesaid item. His side had been freshly bandaged and there was evidence on the bedside table to suggest it had also been re-stitched. And sleeping by the window in a chair beside a large pile of cigarette stubs was a bowed blond head. Ran's eyes narrowed as he fixed his glare on the only explanation for his current state.

"Kudoh …"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The sound of his name being growled in tones of low menace jolted Yohji from a rather pleasant dream involving a pair of amazingly flexible twins. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, the blond noticed he was currently being treated to a prime specimen from the Fujimiya collection of chilling glares. Finding the man attempting to look threatening while also clearly rendered more or immobile by the obvious stiffness in his muscles prompted a slow, amused grin to spread across Yohji's features as he languidly stretched and rose from his seated position. "Morning, Ran. How are you feeling this morning?"

The glare intensified, as did Yohji's grin. Really, the blond had no idea why he hadn't noticed until now just how adorable the other man looked when he made that expression. No doubt mistaking the smirk for silent laughter at his current situation, Ran clenched his fists slightly. "What am I doing in your room, Kudoh?"

Wondering just why he was taking so much pleasure in winding the already annoyed man up, Yohji shrugged and treated Ran to that same sexy grin that had made Keiko rip his clothes off so enthusiastically last night. This time, a low growl was his only response. "Had to dump you somewhere after you fell asleep in my arms, Ran, and you locked the door to your own room." Moving across to the bed, Yohji sat down on one side, carefully remaining out of punching range. "And I figured that should you wake up on me, you wouldn't take very well to me rummaging through your pants looking for keys." Another wink despite the fact that the blond was well aware he was pushing his luck. "Especially as you were wearing them at the time."

Ran processed this information with a quick succession of various glares and low growls. Yohji grinned, but decided to stop playing with the man before the redhead overcame the stiffness in his muscles and tried to strangle the blond. "I take it you're still stiff as hell. What were you up to, to get yourself in such a state?"

"None of your business." Ran began to struggle to sit up, batting away Yohji's attempts to help him with another icy glare. "What time is it? We have to open the Koneko."

"You could probably use a shower first Ran, get some hot water to loosen up those muscles." Yohji left the man to struggle upwards on his own as the blond made his own way out of the room. "You'll have to wait for me to finish first, but judging at the speed you're moving, you should get there just as I'm finishing."

Leaving the room quickly to hide his re-emerging smile, Yohji heard some comments being muttered after him that sounded decidedly uncomplimentary. Shaking his head, the blond entered the bathroom and turned on the shower. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A glance at the arrivals board revealed that the flight from Germany was going to be an additional half hour late. Schuldig glared at the screens as though the electronic readouts were personally responsible before making his way over to where the Schwarz leader was sitting with a copy of the Financial Times. "I swear that arsehole Janus deliberately picked the one delayed flight into Tokyo just to make us waste half our day waiting around for him," the German complained as he flung himself onto the empty seat beside Crawford. "It's not like he didn't know this would happen."

Crawford turned another page of the newspaper and continued to read. His companion glared at him in irritation, before sighing and sinking further down the seat. Resting his head on the back of the typically uncomfortable airport couch, Schuldig cast his mind idly through the collected crowds.

"Don't do that."

Blinking in surprise, Schuldig glanced up at the American. "What?"

"You seem to be in a bad enough mood as it is. The last thing we need is for you to do your own brand of crowd-surfing and become even more misanthropic before Janus shows up." With an exhalation of breath that could easily have been a sigh, Crawford folded his paper and placed it neatly to one side. "It's something to do with Void, isn't it?"

Schuldig scowled out across the crowds. "You said you saw him shoot me. How did he manage it?"

Crawford looked down at the redhead beside him briefly before turning his attention back to the throngs of people. "What you really want to ask is why did you let him shoot you."

"Fuck you Crawford. I thought I was supposed to be the telepath around here."

"I just saw it happen, I have no idea what your thought processes were at the time. Perhaps it was nothing more than a moment of monumental stupidity on your part combined with a lucky shot from Void."

Schuldig paused for a moment to study the profile of the Oracle. "You don't seem to think so."

"No, I don't," Crawford confirmed as he pushed his glasses further up his nose. For a moment Schuldig thought the man was going to add something, but the American simply picked up his paper once again.

More minutes passed. Finally bored out of his mind once again, Schuldig sighed irritably. "Why did they have to send Janus, of all those Delphic arseholes? Like that guy's going to be any help in finding Void."

"He's not here to find Void. Janus wants to know why we failed to relocate him."

Green eyes widening in alarm, Schuldig turned to face Crawford. "They're not holding you responsible, are they?"

There was nothing to give away any emotion on the Schwarz leader's face. "Blame has not yet been apportioned, but Janus will no doubt wish to discuss my pre-cognitive abilities."

The German muttered some curses in his native tongue. "You're still an effective assassin, if they can't see that then they really are as blind as they look."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence," Crawford commented dryly. Once again, he put down his paper, but this time rose to his feet as well. 

With a roll of his eyes, Schuldig also rose from his seat and followed the American across the arrivals hall. "I hope customs bloody strip-searched the fucker."

"Try to keep that mouth of yours under control. Esset already have enough grievances against you."

"Jawohl mein Führer."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"From the scowl on your face, I take it my presence is unexpected, Fujimiya-san?"

Ran bit back the snarl forming on his lips and instead inclined his head politely. "Birman-san. I was only expecting to talk with Manx-san today."

"Oh, but I have a feeling this is going to concern a certain pet project of yours," Manx explained from her position beside the brunette. "And therefore decided that an additional voice from Kritiker may help you keep things in perspective."

"I'm not actually here to talk about Yohji, not directly anyway," Ran informed the two women coolly, noting their looks of surprise with a small amount of satisfaction. "I want you to activate Ken and Omi."

A short silence followed. Then Birman cleared her throat and frowned. "I must admit my confusion here, Fujimiya-san. My colleague Manx led me to believe from her conversation with you earlier that you were very much against Kritiker's plans of removing Kudoh-san from your watchful eye. Yet you suddenly chose to comply with Kritiker's orders, may I ask the reason why?"

Ran graced the brunette with a smile that matched his violet glare for iciness. "I never said I was complying with Kritiker's orders concerning Kudoh. My opinion there is unchanged. He stays with us."

"You cannot be serious!" Manx exploded in a rare loss of composure. "You yourself were quick to point out the risks of keeping Kudoh in the same house as an active assassin, yet now you seriously think he'll remain oblivious to _three_ assassins? The hospital cover we designed for you will not work for Ken and Omi, Kudoh is certain to suspect something when all three of his housemates vanish off together with little warning."

"Kudoh will not suspect anything, because the three of us will not be taking missions together," Ran explained coolly. "You will pair Ken and Omi together and allow them to gain experience with relatively low risk missions." The redhead glared slightly at the two women. "Knowing how protective you both seem to be of Omi, that shouldn't be a problem."

There was another short silence. Manx matched Ran's glare with one of equal intensity, while Birman frowned softly in thought. "Fujimiya-san, why are so you so concerned with allowing Ken and Omi to gain experience if you still want Kudoh to stay with you, despite Kritiker's recommendations?"

Answered only with silence from the pale man opposite, Manx narrowed her eyes further. "You're trying to protect him, aren't you? You're going to risk the lives of Ken and Omi all for the sake of keeping Kudoh safe from Schwarz."

"Not at all. I simply want to be sure that should Schwarz show up, I'll only be looking out for one other person, not three."

Disregarding the glaring competition that seemed to have resumed between the two redheads, Birman clearly her throat delicately. "While such sentiments would normally be welcomed, particularly from one such as yourself, there is an additional factor to consider. Manx has no doubt mentioned the results of Kudoh's test to you, but continued analysis of the results has led us to some further discoveries which you must be made aware of."

Ran turned his attention fully to the other woman. "You mean other than the evidence that his memories of Void are returning?"

The woman nodded. "Comparison between these most recent results and those originally taken after Void's capture has revealed evidence that your removal of the Void persona may have been too thorough."

Ran frowned in confusion and Manx tossed her hair with a snort. "In short it appears you removed more than you should have," the redheaded woman clarified. "We have evidence that leads us to conclude that prior to your own tampering, someone else had done a little rearranging in Void's head."

"Mental blocks, to be precise," Birman continued quietly. "Restraints. Specifically in the region of Void's mind that should deal with his ability."

Ran's frown deepened. "That makes no sense. Why would Schwarz block off his ability?"

Manx shrugged dismissively. "That is something we are still trying to understand. But your more immediate concern should be what would happen if the Kudoh persona fails to hold. His abilities may be currently dormant, but we have no way of knowing what they are or why Schwarz deemed it necessary to block Void's access of them. If Void was to re-emerge, he would have abilities that you hadn't previously encountered. Keeping in mind what happened the last time you went up against the man, I wouldn't like to bet too highly on your chances." 

"It's essential that we place Kudoh somewhere where we can monitor him until we understand just what his abilities are," Birman stressed. "And also somewhere that would keep him away from Schwarz and whatever other former employers are looking for him. He could be of much use to Kritiker."

"You can't be serious," Ran snarled. "Why make me go through all the trouble of erasing his past, if all you wanted was another convenient toy? Or was that what you wanted all along?" His violet eyes narrowed further. "Let me guess: I did my job a little too well. You wanted someone a bit more malleable than Kudoh so now you're going to take him back and screw with his mind again until the result is something you're happy with. Something you can use."

Manx glared at Ran, tight-lipped with anger, but it was Birman who spoke, the shock evident in her voice. "I remind you who you are speaking to, Abyssinian. You seem to be forgetting yourself. And also that you are an employee of Kritiker and so have little say in the matter. You may have been granted some leeway at first due to your knowledge of brainwashing techniques, but those skills are not needed anymore. If Kritiker want Kudoh moved to a location where we can study him, there really isn't much you can do about it."

"And you seem to be forgetting that Kudoh isn't an employee of Kritiker," Ran countered. "He is under no obligation to follow your orders." Raising his chin slightly, Ran's face assumed its usual expression of cool detachment. "Kudoh stays in the Koneko. If you are concerned about Void re-emerging then you would do better to activate Ken and Omi as I suggested." 

Birman watched him leave with an expression that was hard to read before turning to her red haired companion. "And to think I thought you were exaggerating about his protective instincts."

"Another complication," Manx muttered. "I'm beginning to wish you'd followed Fuijimiya's first suggestion and just shot Void when you had the chance."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Are you breathing now 

_Do the wicked see you_

_You still breathing_

_You're making me known_

_Are you breathing now_

_Do the wicked see you_

You still breathing" 

Nagi sighed as he silently admitted defeat to the loud bass beat pounding through the wall and, it felt, directly into his head. The computer keyboard ceased to clatter loudly and the teenager rubbed his temples wearily. Normally when Schuldig was in one of his moods, Nagi had absolutely no problems with barging into the German's room and laying waste to the redhead's sound system. However that would mean leaving his room. And also mean possibly running into that man with the dark glasses that the two elder Schwarz had brought back from the airport earlier.

_ "So, what's up_

_I wonder why do you listen to me_

_I'm gonna make you do some freaky shit now_

_Insane, you're gonna die when you listen to me_

Let the living die, let the living die, say" 

Gritting his teeth, Nagi pulled a pillow over from the bed and wrapped it firmly around his ears as he squeezed his eyes shut. The noise still managed to make its way through the protective layer, though at least it was muffled. Nagi opened his eyes again, as he glared at the computer. No one was telling him anything, but he wasn't stupid. This was all to do with Void. Void was the reason why Nagi was searching through admission records to hospital emergency wards, the reason why Schuldig was behaving like an even bigger bastard than usual and why Crawford was talking to that man.

Nagi suppressed an involuntary shudder. He'd never met another pre-cog before, and had expected them all to be much the same as the American. Calm and slightly distant, but this Janus was something else entirely. Dressed entirely in a closely tailored black suit finished with a pair of sunglasses, the man had resembled nothing quite so much as a gangster or crime boss. Nagi's quiet amusement at the man's outfit had quickly been dispersed when the man had removed the glasses and turned to face Nagi, revealing two scarred slits where his eyes should reside. Then the man had laughed, as though he could see the horrified expression on the teenager's face and replaced the glasses. Glancing towards the other two Schwarz members in the room, Nagi had been expecting to see the usual smirk on Schuldig's face – no doubt revelling in the youngster's reaction to the newcomer. Instead, the red head had been staring out of the window with a distant frown on his features. It seemed to Nagi as though the telepath was barely paying any attention to anyone in the room.

_"I can hear the voice but I don't want to listen_

_Strap me down and tell me I'll be all right_

_I can feel the subliminal need to be one_

_With the voice and make everything go_

_I can hear the voice but I don't want to listen_

_Strap me down and tell me I'll be all right_

_I can feel the subliminal need to be one with_

_The voice and make everything all right"_

Intimidating men with no eyes or not, he couldn't take much more of this blaring noise. Nagi quickly crossed the room and flung open the door. A quick glance revealed that the coast was clear of blind men dressed in black suits, so the teenager made his way to the source of the noise. With scant regard for the engaged lock, Nagi simply blasted the door open and made his way inside, blowing up the stereo as he did so.

"Shit kid, you know I've got better things to spend my money on than clearing up after your adolescent tantrums."

The bored drawl brought Nagi up short, his frustrated rant abruptly forgotten. He blinked his blue eyes several times as he watched the figure sitting on the windowsill. "Huh?" he managed, still unnerved by the mildness of the response.

"At least have the manners to shut the door, brat. Last thing I want is for people to think I've got some open-door policy running in here." Schuldig pulled out a cigarette from the packet by his side and sparked up. He exhaled a lungful of the blue grey smoke and continued to stare out of the window.

Stunned, Nagi did so, never taking his eyes of the slouched figure at the other end of the room who seemed remarkably unconcerned with the smoking mess that had until recently been a state of the art sound system. The German didn't even look away from the window.  He simply continued to smoke his cigarette, flicking the ash into an already overflowing dish. Finally the teenager couldn't take it anymore. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Nagi demanded.

Another plume of smoke was his only answer. The brunette's fists clenched in frustration and the cigarette that had been about to be raised once again to the redhead's mouth was abruptly crumpled. Schuldig paused for a moment, causing Nagi to think he was going to get a response, but the German simply pulled another cigarette from the packet and lit it.

Nagi narrowed his eyes. "Screw you, you're not worth the bother anyway." Spinning on his heel, he began to march out of the room.

_~Tell me chibi; if a sin doesn't exist anymore, is the one who committed it still guilty?~_

Nagi froze at the voice in his thoughts and turned back to face the German who still hadn't moved from his position. "What? I-"

_~Shut up, Trottel. The last thing I need is Janus breathing down my neck.~_

Nagi shivered involuntarily, feeling another jolt of surprise when he failed to hear any mocking laughter, telepathic or otherwise, at his childish reaction. Concentrating his thoughts, Nagi focused on the German's presence in his mind. _~I don't know. Farfarello is the one you should be asking.~_

There was a hint of bitter laughter. _~I already did.~_

_~Well? What did he say?~_

Schuldig stubbed out his cigarette. "Get out of my room and find someone else to annoy."

Nagi blinked again. "Huh? 

The redhead finally turned his head to face him, revealing green eyes that were narrowed in irritation. "You heard. Get out. Leave me alone and bother someone else with your bratty whining."

Nagi flushed in anger and Schuldig's ashtray shattered, spilling its contents over the floor. "Fuck you, Schuldig. No one gives a shit about arseholes like you. You can rot in hell for all I care." Inwardly wondering just why he even tried to treat the telepath like an ordinary person, the teenager stormed out of the room.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Uh, Yohji, are you actually going out in that?"

"Yeah, I thought it looked damn good too, Omi. There probably isn't a single person in Tokyo who could resist me dressed like this."

Ran paused on his way down to the lounge, listening to the voices and wondering why he was having to fight the urge to simply head back into his room and lock the door. It was ridiculous to feel so apprehensive around the blond, chided Ran's inner voice. He was an assassin, a highly trained professional and yet here he was, wanting to run and hide rather than face Kudoh and that leering grin of his. Since waking up in the man's bed, Ran had found himself being treated to that broad smirk more times than he cared to mention. And the glare with which Ran normally discouraged such behaviour only seemed to intensify Yohji's amusement. Shaking his head briefly, Ran readjusted his grip on the book he had in his hand and continued to make his way towards the source of the voices. It didn't matter what the man was up to, Ran was not going to let it affect him. He was emotionless. He was ice.

"What's with the shirt, Yohji? Is the shop keeping the other half until you can afford the whole thing?"

"Now, Ken, no getting sour just because you don't have the body for this."

Ran paused in the doorway, eyes slowly taking in the scene in front of him. Ken and Omi were both relaxing on the couch obviously supposed to be watching an old movie that was blaring out from the television. At the present moment in time, both of the younger men were paying far more attention to the blond who stood in the middle of the room with his back to Ran, than to the flickering screen. Ran let his eyes travel over to the lanky form and nearly dropped his book.

Yohji looked good. Damned good. Low riding leather pants that clung like a second skin drew the gaze to an extremely well shaped arse and long, lean legs. Forcing his gaze upwards, Ran noted that the tight fitting green shirt seemed a perfect match for the blond's eyes. When the man turned around to face Ran, the redhead's instincts were proven correct. Thin buckled straps connected the sleeves with the main shirt, which was also mainly held together with an assortment of straps and buckles. Underneath the emerald green fabric, honeyed skin stretched over a well-toned abdomen. With more than a little effort, Ran brought his gaze up to the blond man's face and felt his eyes narrow at the knowing look of amusement there.

"Hey, Ran. I was wondering when you were going to show up," Yohji commented. "I'm heading out, fancy joining me?"

For some reason, Ran was finding it harder than usual to maintain his normal impassive expression. Rather than watch the blond smirk at him once again, the redhead dropped his gaze down to the book he carried. "I was going to relax and read a book," he began but suddenly noted that the book he was holding wasn't the one he'd meant to bring at all, but the novel he'd finished only two days ago. Raising his free hand to rub his face, Ran reflected that he was obviously letting the current situation get to him more than he should.

"Come on Ran, I know for a fact you've already read that book. Is my company really that bad? Would one little night out to relax and unwind really be that painful?"

Ran bit back a sigh. He was going to regret this. He knew it. But some hidden part of him was screaming to just give in and relax this once. And for some reason, that warm smile of Yohji's was making it hard for him to think clearly. "Fine. I'll go." At the very least, Ran told himself, it would let him keep an eye on Kudoh and make sure Kritiker weren't trying some underhanded scheme to separate the blond from the rest of them.

Yohji seemed delighted with the easy victory, a wider grin than normal spreading across his face. He moved quickly across the room and before Ran really registered what was happening, his wrist was firmly encased in an iron grasp as the blond pulled him along behind. "Fantastic! This is going to be great, I've always thought you could use a little loosening up. This is just what you need. A little drinking, a little dancing…"

As he was led out of the lounge, Ran was almost positive he heard Omi trying not to laugh.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The man across the table from Crawford leaned back in his seat and pushed the tinted glasses further up his nose. Despite the darkness of the glasses, and the lack of eyes behind them, Janus seemed to have no trouble in following Crawford's every movement. Of course, the American reflected, being able to see the future with complete clarity probably helped a great deal.

"You understand why it is essential to bring Void back into Schwarz?" Janus enquired. "As you have already confirmed, the Hunt are not only in Japan, but also appear to have located Void. Esset cannot allow them to reacquire the man, it would spell disaster for everything the Delphic Unit has worked for."

Crawford cleared his throat. "I am, naturally, well aware of the importance of the task. What remains unchanged is the difficultly involved in not only tracking Void, but successfully removing him from whatever situation he has currently found himself in." The American glanced over at the head of the Delphic Unit. "But you already know this, so why come here personally?"

Janus smiled slightly and turned as though looking out of the window. And perhaps he even was, in some future point in time. "Your telepath seems a little out of hand."

Crawford kept his face neatly impassive, but felt his fists clench under the table. "Schuldig is Schuldig. It hasn't affected his ability as an assassin."

"He's a bad influence on the group, you need to bring him into line." Janus paused for a moment. "If Void is not brought back into Schwarz within the next two months, your Mastermind will be shot by your ex-team member." For some reason, the blind man smiled slightly at this statement, obviously finding something amusing.

"Two months?" Crawford repeated slowly. "I didn't realise there was so little time."

"Ah, but your ability to see further than the immediate future is patchy at best," Janus said dismissively. "You're unwilling to fully focus your second sight and so will continue to see little more than frustrating glances."

The Schwarz leader looked around his office, making a show if his disinterest. "It suits me better at the moment to serve the team as an active member. In addition, once Void is once again with Schwarz, much of my pre-cognition will be obscured."

"Ah, yes. I had been forgetting that," Janus commented with another smile. The man rose from his seat and began to straighten his suit. "I suppose that concludes things for today. Your telekinetic seems very talented if a little untrained; Melmoth will no doubt take great pleasure in meeting him. He and Gil-Martin are arriving tomorrow."

Crawford blinked in surprise. "Both of them are coming here?" 

Janus paused as he passed Crawford. "Naturally. This is considered extremely important by our organisation, and we will use the strongest personnel that we have to recapture Void." The Delphic Head tilted his head to one side. "And perhaps Gil-Martin can have a few words with your Mastermind."

Crawford turned to watch the man leave; only becoming aware a few minutes later that his fists were still clenched and shaking.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

With a glance at the clock that still read midnight, Manx shut down the computer and slowly turned to face the door. Her face was carefully schooled in a mask of impassiveness as she regarded the three figures that stood in the shadows. "As you have roughly two minutes before security reach this office, I suggest you tell me what you are doing here. And please try to keep it concise as I'd hate to miss something important over the gunfire."

"Not a very friendly introduction, I must admit. What happened to the Japanese hospitality that I've heard so much about?" Remarked the oldest of the three strangers, a smartly dressed man with a strong clipped English accent.

Manx smiled coldly. "Hospitality is for those who make appointments. And surely it is also considered impolite in England to enter uninvited? Or, in the eyes of the law; breaking and entering?"

"We're simply paying a quick social call," the old man responded, smiling as Manx's eyes strayed once again to the clock. "As far as your security is concerned, we'll be gone in an instant, I assure you."

"Where's Void?" the younger man to the left demanded. He glared at Manx through layers of clothing that seemed to cover almost every inch of his body save his face. "We have reason to believe you're responsible for his removal from Schwarz."

Manx feigned disinterest. "I have no idea what you're talking about. As you can clearly see, this is simply a hospital and patient confidentiality prevents me from discussing any specific case."

"Lies do not become you, my dear." The elder of the two men commented with a small smile. The third figure, a young girl, continued to focus on something cupped between her hands and showed little interest in the conversation. The old man glanced at her briefly before turning his attention back to the redhead. "If you are concerned about our own loyalties, I can assure you we represent neither Schwarz nor their employers. Consider us an interested third party."

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to consider you very dead, you won't be leaving this building alive."

The man swathed in clothes laughed loudly at that comment, but was silenced by a glance from his senior. "We can see that you're not inclined to simply trust us in this situation, so perhaps we should even out the playing field somewhat. I'll offer you a trade in information."

One immaculately groomed eyebrow rose slightly as Manx leaned back in her chair, her heel once again pressing against the silent alarm embedded in the base. "Oh?" Glancing over at the clock, she was surprised to note it still read midnight – obviously defective. Manx curled the corners of her mouth upwards. "What exactly could you possibly offer me?"

"Someone of your intelligence is obviously aware by now that Void was not what you would call normal by any stretch of the imagination," the Englishman commented. "We can offer a little more insight into just what you've inadvertently acquired."

"And just how did you come to be in possession of such information?" Manx asked.

The old man matched her smile. "How do you think?"

Manx opened her mouth to respond, but was abruptly interrupted by the teenaged girl with the multi-coloured hair. "Time's up."

The other two men nodded at the girl, before the elder turned once again to nod politely towards the redhead. "We must cut this short, I'm afraid. Don't worry, we'll be back and look forward to hearing your answer."

Manx frowned. "What makes you think you'll still be alive to hear it?"

"Because, my dear, we are not the hunted, but the hunters."

Moments after the trio had disappeared from the room, the first of the security guards entered. "You set off the alarm, Manx-san? What seems to be the problem?"

Manx treated them to a glare of cold fury that would match the best Fujimiya himself would be capable of. "Had you bothered to turn up within the two minutes specified by Kritiker, you would no doubt have found the three intruders in this very room a very urgent problem."

A puzzled frown greeted her statement. "But the alarm only went off a minute ago." The confused man nodded towards the clock on the wall. "Time is now four minutes past midnight and the silent alarm was triggered at 2 minutes and 46 seconds past the hour."

Manx's eyes narrowed further. "In that case, inform Birman. We have complications."

TBC


	7. Chapter Seven

Force of Habit: Chapter Seven

Warning: I'm going to be using German for some of the dialogue. Sorry, but I tried writing this without any and it just didn't work. Plus, it'll only last until Yohji remembers that he knows the language. I'll put the translations down at the bottom. Oh and big thanks to dear friend who reminded me that I have no soul and therefore shouldn't hesitate to serve up some severe shit for Schuldig. And additionally, things start to get /really/ complicated from here on in. I hope you've all been paying attention darlings. ;) 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Hi, welcome to The Noh, can I get you something to drink?"  The clarity of the young man's voice came as a surprise to Ran considering the loudness of the music and the fact that the server, like all the other employees in the bar, wore a mask that completely obscured his face. Despite the obstruction, his voice was clear enough to even detect the traces of what sounded like a French accent.

From his position on the opposite side of the small table, Yohji grinned at the man, obviously not in the least bit bothered by his strange appearance. "Two shots of Absolut." The blond cheerfully requested, completely ignoring the glare being directed at him by his companion. "Oh, yeah, and better get us something to wash 'em down with too." He watched the man note down the order and head off to the bar, before turning back to grin at the redhead, the loose straps of his shirt revealing a tanned expanse of well-toned muscle as the blond leaned forwards. "Pretty cool, isn't it?"

"Hn," Ran muttered as he let his gaze travel over the serving staff again, more in an attempt to prevent himself from watching the way the man's abdominal muscles rippled with every movement than any real curiosity. "Why do all the staff wear red contact lenses?"

Yohji shrugged. "Apparently it's got something to do with the book or whatever that they took the name from. The Noh was a name for an assassination group or something." Yohji looked at the younger man in amusement. "Of course, it's hopeless asking me. I wouldn't remember anyway." For an instant, Yohji could have sworn the corners of Ran's mouth twitched upwards at the joke before the redhead remembered himself. Inwardly, the blond crowed in delight at the sign that the man was finally starting to loosen up. Since waking up to the sight of a glaring redhead in his bed, Yohji had privately decided to make melting Fuijimiya's icy demeanour his own personal mission. Of course, the blond had no way of knowing if temperamental redheads were an established weakness of his, or a newly discovered preference but if the latter was the case, Yohji was certainly open to new experiences. If nothing else, Ran was going to present a touch more of a challenge than the numerous females he'd encountered.

Even now, watching the smaller redhead as he glared around at the other patrons of the club, it was hard to guess exactly what was going on in his mind. Yohji guessed he felt a little uncomfortable, due to the stiffness of Ran's body, noticeable even through the loose black shirt and pants he wore. That was not exactly surprising to the blond, he'd spent enough time around the other man to know that the redhead wasn't exactly the most sociable of people, but Ran had been surprisingly easy to persuade to come out. And therein was the blond's main problem. He couldn't work out where he stood with the redhead.

Perhaps if he hadn't lost his memory, and therefore didn't feel the need to examine and analyse every word and gesture thrown his way, Yohji would just have simply placed his relationship with the violet-eyed man in the 'casual friendship' category. After all, they seemed to spend enough time together, drinking coffee, hanging out and talking about trivial things, but … there was something off in the redhead's demeanour. While the younger man seemed willing enough to spend time with him, he seemed distracted and distant. Anyone with slightly lesser honed observational skills may have simply dismissed it as the man's normal behaviour, but every now and then Yohji saw the act slip. And every time it happened just made Ran's attitude stand out in sharper contrast. It was as if the redhead spent time with him against his better judgement, as if there was something in his head telling him to keep the blond at arm's length. Yohji could see it every time he tried to spend time with Ran. The quick succession of hesitance, indecision and what looked like fear that would flicker behind those amethyst eyes whenever Yohji approached the man with an invitation to do something even as innocent as drink some coffee. And then the way the redhead would slowly relax in his company, proving that behind the icy façade was a regular human being before suddenly snapping back into his usual aloof self. And at those moments, Yohji saw another collection of emotions in those eyes: anger, fear, self-disgust and yet more confusion. Something was making the redhead act this way, and it was something important enough for Ran to feel very uneasy about going against the invisible block and opening up to the blond.

Returning his violet gaze to the blond that sat across from him, Ran frowned slightly as he noticed Yohji's thoughtful stare. "What?" the redhead demanded.

Yohji felt another grin spread across his face at the expression on Ran's face. The poor man didn't even realise how desirable he looked, with that vulnerable shyness carefully hidden behind icy distain. And was before you even took that utterly delectable body into consideration. Yohji wondered how he could possibly be the only person who saw through Ran's act. He refused to believe that no one else could see beyond that flawless, porcelain skin, or that slim and elegant body. Well, now reflecting on the man's more physical assets, it was understandable that people got a touch distracted, especially when being glared at with those wonderful eyes, but really, they didn't know what they were missing.

Ran's glare intensified as Yohji continued to grin at him. "Kudoh …" the man began to growl, but was abruptly cut off as the waiter returned with the drinks.

Safely able to hide his smirk behind the shot glass of vodka, Yohji quickly downed the clear liquid and reached for his beer. "I must confess, you surprised me, Ran," the blond commented, watching the other man closely over the bottleneck he hovered by his lips. "I thought I was going to have to try a lot harder to persuade you to come out tonight."

Hesitance again; quickly disguised by the narrowing of those amethyst orbs as Ran raised his head slightly in dismissal. "You have a very high opinion of yourself, don't you?" Anyone else might have missed the faint tugging at the corners of the man's mouth as Ran fought to keep a smile from his face. Even Yohji might have missed the slight colouring of those pale cheeks, or dismissed it as due to the flashing lights were he not watching the other man so keenly. The redhead quickly gulped down his own shot of vodka, his breath hitching slightly as the liquid burned its way down his throat. Almost as quickly, Ran reached for the beer, chasing the liquor down with a long swig.

Yohji raised an eyebrow in amusement and stretched his leg out beneath the table to brush against the redhead's thigh. "Might wanna slow down there, Ran. Unless you want me to carry you to bed again."

Ran spluttered around his mouthful, quickly replacing the bottle on the table as he coughed to clear his throat. Yohji watched on as he casually sipped at his drink, mainly in an attempt to prevent Ran from seeing the smirk that was threatening to split his face in two. Oh yes, score one point for me, Yohji thought smugly as he watched the redhead struggle to regain his composure. The fact that the smaller man had made no attempt to jerk his leg away from Yohji's was not lost on the blond either.

Replacing his own beer on the table, Yohji rose to his feet and moved around until he was standing in front of Ran. The redhead looked up at him warily, swallowing another gulp of beer. Smiling at the display of nervousness coming from the paler man, Yohji leaned forwards and carefully removed the bottle from Ran's hand. "Come on, let's go dance. There's no point in getting wasted this early in the evening."

Ran frowned at the blond, but rose to his feet anyway. "I'm not getting wasted," he muttered as he made his way through the crowds. Yohji followed close behind, admiring the way those slim hips moved unconsciously to the heavy beat. The alcohol in his system had definitely loosened the redhead up a little, and the speed at which he'd downed the contents of both glass and bottle made Yohji reasonably confident that the majority of said alcohol had gone straight to the man's head. 

Reaching out, Yohji wrapped his arms around his companion's waist and pulled the man against him. Ran turned around to face the blond, an element of surprise visible in his widened eyes, before the smaller man drew down his eyelids and sighed. His arms reached up and loosely rested around the blond's shoulders. The beat changed, dropping away to a quietly building bridge and Yohji took the opportunity to bring Ran's body close against him.

_I am the needle in your vein (and I control you)_

_I am the high you can't sustain (and I control you)_

_I am the pusher; I'm a whore (and I control you)_

_I am the need you have for more (and I control you)_

Ran's eyes slowly opened to stare dazedly at Yohji. The redhead blinked a couple of times, causing Yohji to wonder just how often the redhead indulged in alcohol. From the wide eyes and way Fujimiya pressed himself against his dancing partner, it was pretty obvious that the normally strictly upheld defences had been lowered by a fair amount. Yohji only realised quite how far when the hands clasped at the back of his head pulled his mouth down to meet the redhead's.

The majority of Yohji's mind shut down, focusing only on the sensation of those soft and surprisingly warm lips pressing against his own. Yohji flicked his tongue out to brush against Fujimiya's lower lip, but found it instead drawn eagerly into the cavern of the redhead's mouth. The taste of alcohol was present, but not as strong as Yohji had expected. Instead Ran tasted of lemon with a hint of spices, a vast contrast to the never-ending stream of sugar and peppermint that he'd encountered with all his female dates.

Ran sighed into the kiss, melding himself against the length of the lanky blond and running his own tongue along the blond's. Yohji could only tighten his grip on the other man in response, letting one hand drop down to caress a firm and well-shaped arse. His leather pants were becoming increasingly tight as the smaller man ground his hips against Yohji and the blond could feel the redhead's hardness pressing insistently against his thigh.

The need for oxygen caused Yohji to break off the kiss as he rested his forehead against Ran's and studied the other man's face. The redhead was breathing almost as heavily as Yohji, as he stared up through half-lidded eyes. They drooped shut as Yohji watched, and Ran rested his head against the blond. With unfailing unconscious accuracy Yohji found himself fighting to keep control of his body as the other man nuzzled once again against that extremely sensitive spot on his collarbone. Casting his eyes skyward, Yohji wondered just how the man always seemed to find that one particular weak spot of his.

Yohji could feel the redhead's breath against his skin as Ran struggled to calm his breathing down. Raising his head, Ran looked up at Yohji through eyes clouded by lust and alcohol. A slow smile broke out on the redhead's face as he stretched his neck upwards to let his swollen lips brush against Yohji's earlobe. A brief nip of teeth ensured he had the blond's attention. "Do we have to stay?"

Yohji wasn't sure how to react to this sudden change in Ran's personality. Well, his body had its own ideas, but what remained of the blond's rational thoughts were desperately pointing out that taking advantage of a potentially drunken friend was going to have severe and possibly painful repercussions. They were quickly thrown into opposition with his optimistic nature's observation that refusing a potentially still quite sober Fujimiya had repercussions of a much more long-term nature. Either way, both sides agreed on his immediate reaction as an equally seductive smile at the man in his arms as Yohji leaned in close enough to brush those eartails and replied. "Not any longer than you want to."

As Ran pulled away and began to lead the slightly dazed Yohji back towards the exit, the blond couldn't quite believe what was happening. From the firm grip on his wrist and the redhead's unwavering path, any hints of drunkenness in Ran was well hidden, but Yohji still couldn't equate the quiet, reserved manner he knew with the way the man was behaving now. Oh sure, Yohji knew he was good at the whole seducing game, but he hadn't realised he was this good. Getting Ran into bed on the first try was more of a success than he'd expected.

Once clear of the dance-floor and the numerous tables grouped near the bar, Ran's pace increased. Yohji actually had to tug hard at the vice-like hold on his wrist to get the redhead's attention long enough to remind him about their coats. From the bemused expression on Ran's face, it seemed obvious that he had completely forgotten about the garments. Yohji helped the smaller man into his leather coat barely having time to get his own on before he was dragged outside.

Once in the cold night air, Ran seemed to pause for a few moments. Yohji half-hoped the temperature change was bringing the man back to some semblance of his usual self, but instead found himself hurrying after a quickly moving redhead. "Ran, wait." Breaking into a slight jog, Yohji caught up to the other man and grabbed his arm, effectively pulling Ran to a stop. "You're headed in the wrong direction. The car's the other way."

For a few moments there was no response, then the redhead blinked and frowned slightly, raising one hand as if to rub his head. "It is?"

Yohji nodded, trying to hide his concern. Something was wrong with the other man, and a mere two drinks could not be to blame. "Come on. You look like you're ready to call it a night."

Another frown and Ran shook his head. "I … uh…"

Yohji had a split-second's warning before the other man suddenly collapsed into his arms. Staring at the redhead in shock, Yohji had no time to respond when something cold and sharp pierced his neck. His eyes drooped shut and the blond joined his companion in unconsciousness.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Verdammte Stille."

"Chöre sind gefällig?"

"Schnauze! Ist er aufgewacht?"

"Noch nicht. Die Drogen sollen ein bisschen länger dauern."

The sound of voices pulled Yohji into something closer resembling consciousness. His entire body felt as though it was made of lead and as the blond tried to bring a hand up to rub at his eyes, he realised his wrists were encased in cold metal and fastened behind his back to the wall he was slumped against. As his thoughts struggled to make sense of the information his senses were currently relaying, Yohji suddenly felt himself jolt into full consciousness at the memory of a redhead passed out yet again in his arms. _Shit, Ran!_

"Endlich wach! Du bist so faul wie immer, Yue."

Yohji blearily opened his eyes to find himself being looked at expectantly by two men in their early thirties who looked disturbingly familiar. Both were quite clearly of European descent and one was still dressed in the serving uniform of the Noh bar, only having removed the mask and contacts to reveal almost white-blond hair and grey eyes, while the other was swamped under several layers of clothing that covered almost every inch of flesh. Yohji stared at the latter for a few moments before a memory clicked into place. "You … you were in the hospital."

The waiter and the man from the hospital both looked surprised for a moment, before the waiter turned to his companion with a distinctly irritated expression. "Und du sagtest, er habe dich nicht gesehen. Mon Dieu! Du sollst telepathisch sein!"

"Leck mich am Arsch," the heavily clothed man muttered to his companion before crouching down in front of the confused blond. He extended a gloved hand and clicked his fingers several times directly in front of Yohji's face. "Lange nicht gesehen, Yue."

Yohji frowned at the barrage of foreign words, unable to understand what was being said. "Who are you?"

There was another short pause, before the waiter pulled his companion away from Yohji causing the man to sprawl across the floor. "Hör auf. Er kann uns nicht verstehen." Ignoring the death glare being directed at him by the strangely dressed man, the waiter turned to face Yohji and folded his arms. "I suppose expecting an answer if I talk in Japanese isn't too much to ask, mon ami?"

"Who…?"

The man waved a hand dismissively. "You can call me Pan. My companion goes by the name of Legion. I regret the use of the restraints, but they were a necessary precaution for us. You have quite a reputation, mon cher."

Yohji frowned at the smiling man. "You know who I am?"

"Oui, of course. You could say we have somewhat of a history, but for now let us simply say that we would like you to come with us."

Yohji tried to force his brain into a faster mode of operation and suddenly jolted as a thought flicked into his head. "Ran!"

"Ran?" The two men exchanged looks, before Pan turned back to face Yohji with a questioning look. "Do you mean the redhead you were with? We've locked him up somewhere out of the way so you don't have to worry about any interference from that one or his masters."

Yohji pulled hard against the handcuffs, desperate to check on the man's condition for himself when the foreigner's words began to register. "What are you talking about? Ran just works at the hospital where I wound up, he has nothing to do with whatever it is you're after. Let him go!"

From his still somewhat sprawled position on the floor, Legion snorted in disgust. "Listen to him." Leaning forwards, the man waved a solemn finger at the emotional blond. "I got two words for you, Yue. Stockholm. Syndrome."

"Stop calling me that!" Yohji snapped angrily. "My name is Kudoh Yohji. I have no idea who this 'Yue' person is, but he isn't me!"

"This is what happens when you mess around with redheads, you think you'd have learnt your lesson by now," Legion muttered before a glare from Pan forced him into a sullen silence.

Turning away from the sulking man and crouching in front of Yohji, Pan held up a hand in a silence request for calm. "Please ignore Legion, he has a tendency to speak his mind. Always unfortunate when the least sane have the most to say, wouldn't you agree?" Pausing for a moment, Pan tilted his head away from Yohji, obviously thinking over his next few words. "The 'Yue' my companion keeps referring to is someone we both knew. We thought he died eleven years ago, but now we're not so sure."

Yohji narrowed his eyes. "I'm not him."

Pan shrugged. "Perhaps, but either way you appear to have merited your own watchdog so we couldn't help but be interested." His grey eyes narrowed as he looked closely at the man in front of him. "Did you never wonder why you alone seemed to gain so much of his attention? How he could possibly spend so much time with you and also see to his other patients? I suggest you take a look in the hospital files. See how many other patients he has, how many others he has had in the past. Then I suggest you ask him for the truth. If he really is your friend, he might even tell you." The European sighed slightly and rose to his feet, turning to offer a hand to Legion, who stubbornly refused the help in standing up. "We have to go now, but we'll be back soon."

Legion paused, allowing his partner to leave the room first before turning to glare at Yohji. "You can deny it all you want, but you're Yue. The dead surround you and their voices will wear you down eventually. Then you'll remember what you really are."

Yohji watched him leave, keeping his face carefully neutral until he was sure that both of the men were long gone. Then he gave into the urge to let his head fall forwards and squeezed his eyes shut. This was insane, it made no sense, he told himself firmly. But a stubborn part of his mind was trying to insist that it made perfect sense in regards to Fujimiya's behaviour. The way he had acted so cold and distant in the beginning, yet had been around Yohji all the time like his own personal, glaring shadow. The way the redhead would tense or freeze up every time Yohji touched him. Yohji shook his head violently. Ran was just introverted; it had taken him some time to warm to the blond - that was all. The last few days had seen the man start to act in a far more friendly way … hell, just a few hours ago the redhead had been doing his damnedest to get into Yohji pants. The two foreigners were trying to play with his head, make him doubt the other man and agree to go with them. Yohji felt his resolve tighten as he raised his head and began to look around the room again.  He could worry about Fujimiya's motives later. First he had to get out of here and find the other man.

A glance behind him revealed the handcuffs to be fastened around a protruding pipe and several tugs at the bindings confirmed that neither handcuffs nor aforementioned pipe were likely to give way any time soon. The room he was in was made of featureless concrete and had only one small window high up on the wall above his head. It was little more than a grating, and served to confirm Yohji's theory that he was in an underground basement. The light in the room was gloomy at best, the majority coming from the corridor outside which, judging from the footsteps and low voices, was guarded in the absence of the two gaijin. Yohji let his head despondently fall forwards onto his chest. 

He had no idea how long he sat there, but the passing headlight beams from a car fell briefly through the window and made something on the floor reflect the sudden sweep of light. Yohji raised his head slightly and squinted at the ground in front of him. Sitting on the ground, a short distance in front of him was a small metallic object. The blond felt his mouth go dry as he recalled that being the exact place the strangely dressed Legion had fallen. Was it actually possible that the fall had caused the man to drop his keys on the floor, an accident that had gone unnoticed by either of the Europeans? Green eyes narrowed in suspicion. The hell it was. This was a trap. Admittedly, seeing as they already had Yohji pretty much captured and at their mercy, the blond couldn't immediately think of a particular point to it. And it had been a long night; he was willing to go a little on faith this one time.

Sliding forwards as much as the handcuffs at his back allowed him, Yohji stretched out one long leg and brought his heel down on his potential means of escape. The clinking sound as his foot made contact seemed to confirm that the hard to discern object was indeed a set of keys. Trying to remain as quiet as possible, Yohji slowly dragged the keys closer to where his restrained hands could reach. His fingers found themselves in contact with a small ring containing six different keys. Two of which were much smaller than the others and by Yohji's deduction, therefore the keys to both his and Ran's handcuffs. Actually manoeuvring the keys into position and trying them in the lock took a lot more skill and effort, but finally, Yohji heard a quiet snap and was able to pull his arms away from the wall.

The next few minutes were spent massaging his abused wrists and fighting off a severe attack of pins and needles no doubt brought on by the sudden activity in his wrists and hands. Yohji took the time to listen closely to the sounds emanating from beyond the door. Unless there were several guards sitting completely still and therefore unable to be heard, it sounded like the blond only had about three men to worry about. Yohji paused to roll his eyes. Perhaps that fact would be more of a comfort if he was a secret black belt, but as far as Yohji knew, the closest he had ever come to a real fight was getting his arse whipped on Tekkan 4. No, he was going to have to play for stealth on this one.

Creeping over to the door as quietly as possible, Yohji cautiously peered through the keyhole. All he could see was another room, much the same as the one he was currently in. The entrance must either be out of his somewhat limited line of sight or currently obscured by the two guards that were standing to the left. Yohji swore mentally. There was no way short of a miracle he was going to get this door opened without being immediately spotted.

For lack of a better plan, Yohji remained at his post next to the door, trying to think of an alternate route out of his cell. His calf muscle began to spasm from the enforced stay in the crouched position and Yohji turned away from his spy-hole to massage the muscle. He therefore only heard the sudden outbreak of yelling quickly followed by the sound of running footsteps. "His watchdog's just woken up and isn't too happy. I need some help restraining him, he's a vicious little sod."

Yohji's head snapped up, instantly going back to the keyhole just in time to see the two guards moving to help their unseen companion. One of them muttering as he passed; "And that French bastard said the one we needed to watch was the blond. Last time I listen to pillocks like him."

The minute the room was silent, Yohji seized his chance and hurriedly tried the larger keys in the lock. The second one fit and he was able to silently swing the door open before shutting it behind him. No sense in advertising his escape before he was well clear of the place after all. Raised voices, yells and banging were clearly coming from down the passage to his left that was littered with doors on alternating sides. Yohji could see the furthest door on the left was standing ajar: obviously where Ran was being held. Now all he had to do was think of someway of getting the guards away from the cell so he could get the redhead out. After a few moments of thought, Yohji hurried over to one of the other closed doors and began to try his keys in the lock. Maybe he could hide in one of these rooms until the guards gave up on Ran and left him with the chance of making a break for the unwatched room.

With yet another miraculous stroke of luck, Yohji was able to find a key that fitted the lock and slipped into the room as quietly as possible. He shut the door behind him and glanced around at his surroundings. Another bland basement storage room; this one just as empty as the one he'd woken up in. Was a weapons storage room really too much to hope for? At least a broom or even a mop would have been some help; it wasn't like he was asking for an AK-47.

Footsteps outside the door directed Yohji's mind back to the matter at hand. The guards were exiting Ran's cell, muttering about violent redheads. Yohji listened to them pass and when all was quiet, cautiously cracked the door open. Whatever they had done to Ran had left the guards confident of no more distraction from his cell, it seemed, for all three of them were now lounging around the far end of the passageway where they no doubt thought the blond was still residing.  Yohji frowned to himself and shut the door once more. While he had been wanting the guards to move away from where Fujimiya was, he was still unable to make a break for his friend without being clearly visible.

Another sudden outbreak of cursing and running footsteps startled Yohji and sent the blond back once again to his eavesdropping position. It soon became clear what was going on. The guards after subduing Ran wanted to make sure Yohji wasn't going to regain consciousness any time soon and instead had found his empty cell. The immediate conclusion had been the blond had made a break for freedom while they were otherwise engaged with the redhead and was now on his way to get help. Yohji listened in barely concealed amusement as three sets of footsteps charged past his door, intent on reaching the blond before he got out of the building.

When all was quiet again, Yohji casually opened the door and sauntered over to Fujimiya's room. Trying to suppress the urge to start whistling and really pushing his luck, he found the correct key and pushed the door open. Closing it behind him lest the guards suddenly caught a clue, Yohji turned and immediately felt his good mood vanish.

Ran was slumped against the far wall and as far as Yohji could see, out cold. Judging from his bruised appearance, the guards had simply beaten the man into unconsciousness rather than risk another dose of whatever drug they had used the first time around. Crossing over to the redhead, Yohji anxiously went to Fujimiya's injured side and cautiously lifted up his shirt while praying that this was not going to be the moment Ran rejoined the living. With a sigh of relief, Yohji noted the bandages were clean and the wound didn't appear to have reopened. The injuries were mainly around Ran's face and head; Yohji guessed he'd been kicking out at anyone who tried a blow to his body. Yohji quickly unlocked the handcuffs pinning the redhead in place and sighed as he studied the pale man's profile. "You know," he remarked conversationally. "When I made that crack earlier about carrying you to bed, this wasn't quite what I had in mind." He looked at Fujimiya again and tried to focus on a plan for getting out of here with the unconscious man in tow. With a vague frown, Yohji rubbed at his head. It was suddenly getting hard to think. Instead of dissipating with the reassurance that Ran was going to be okay, if somewhat bruised, the anger Yohji had felt at first entering the cell seemed to be increasing exponentially. His breathing echoed raggedly in his head, yet the blond couldn't think for a moment how to calm down, let alone anything as complicated as leaving the cell. Perhaps the drugs they'd used on him were still having more of an effect than he'd thought.

However Yohji's luck for the evening seemed to have finally run out. No sooner had the blond lowered his hand than the guards from earlier stormed into the cell, yet for some reason, Yohji couldn't seem to hear the clattering of their footsteps. His mind seemed to only be registering the strangest noise that sounded like a telephone ringing a long way away. Yohji glanced up at the guards, only dimly aware of their presence as his consciousness focused instead on the sudden feelings of lethargy that were moving through his mind. Everything seemed to be sinking into slow motion. He felt himself rise to his feet as the three armed men began to close in, yet couldn't for the life of him work out just how he was managing to move when he felt so distant from the proceedings. His mind seemed to cease functioning, picking up only the most basic information of what was going on around him.

Action. Violence. Blood. 

Then even that much awareness left him and something else seemed to take over.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The sudden throbbing in his temples was the most warning Crawford got as the interior of the bar was rapidly replaced with a large expanse of open ground in what appeared to be the industrial area of the city. The four current members of Schwarz were being attacked by Void, that redheaded swordsman who should have died a year ago and two other young men, a blond boy who didn't look a day over seventeen and a brunette who couldn't have been much older. As Crawford fended off a vicious sword thrust from the redhead, his gaze strayed to his left where Schuldig stood with his gun raised at Void, mirroring their former member's stance. The German's eyes flicked over to meet the American's and a brief smirk crossed his face, before the telepath tossed his gun to the side. Void's weapon fired at almost the same moment and Mastermind fell slowly backwards to collapse to the ground.

Crawford felt his vision swim slightly at the force of the headache as his thoughts returned to the present and irritably gestured for the waitress to bring him another drink. He removed his glasses while he waited and rubbed his hands tiredly across his eyes. The same damn vision every time and if Janus hadn't been lying, there was less than two months to ensure it didn't happen. The American opened his eyes to glare at the table surface beneath him. The head of the Delphic Unit was holding something back about the event, he knew that much, but he couldn't work out what else the other man could have seen. Perhaps the reason behind the smirk on Schuldig's face as he deliberately threw away his gun in the face of an enemy, the part of the vision that disturbed Crawford the most. Oh sure the German had been moodier than usual lately, and probably didn't even realise the Schwarz leader had noticed, but the man still seemed a long way from effectual suicide. What in hell could prompt the redhead to such a stupid act?

A glass of whiskey was slid in front of him, breaking the American out of his thoughts as the server slid into the seat across from him. Crawford looked up and raised an eyebrow slightly. "Aside from the usual comments about consorting with the enemy, aren't you still too young to be working in here, Mika?"

The girl sitting opposite him stuck her tongue out as she brushed back the stray strands of hair that fell around her face in multi-coloured bangs. "Turned eighteen last month. So there."

Crawford turned his attention back to his drink. "As mature as ever."

"And you're the just the same anal bastard," Mika shot back in an amused voice. She paused for a moment, propping her chin on one hand while the other idly spun a strand of blue hair around her finger. "The others don't know I'm here, but I figured I ought to let you know we have Void."

"Then you should know that we won't let you keep him."

A petulant frown crossed the girl's face as she slumped back in the seat and folded her arms across her chest. "Can't you just do the decent thing for once in your life? Forget about Esset's orders and leave him to us."

Crawford sipped at the whiskey. "I can't do that. My team is at stake."

Another snort from the teenager sitting opposite revealed her to be unimpressed. "Your reputation is at stake, is what you mean. You couldn't care less about the others."

"Are you claiming to be a telepath now, Mika?"

The teenager glared at Crawford through narrowed eyes. "If Esset's opinion of Schwarz wasn't your only worry, you wouldn't be doing this. If you really cared about Sascha and Yue, you would have never made them join Schwarz in the first place."

Brad drained his whiskey and replaced the glass on the table before raising his gaze to meet that of the girl sitting opposite him. "Do I really need to remind you that neither of the pair answers to those names anymore?"

Mika huffed. "I won't call him Schuldig because what happened was your fault, not his. I don't care what crap you and Esset told him."

"What touching loyalty." Crawford allowed a smile to spread across his face. "Now if you could only show the same dedication to your own team instead of a man who is technically now your enemy."

Glaring sullenly at the smirking man across from her, Mika reached out and grabbed a handful of sugar from the small bowl at the end of the table. Appearing to pause for a moment, she smirked at the impassive American. "If you're not careful, we'll claim back Sascha too, after all he belongs to us." Crawford closed his eyes in feigned boredom in response and when he opened them, Mika's brightly coloured hair was nowhere to be seen in the crowds around him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On arriving back at the apartment, Crawford was surprised to find the silent figure of the telepath sitting in the living area staring out the window. A lit cigarette was balanced between two fingers, but from the long column of ash that hadn't been flicked away, it was clear that the German had all but forgotten about the item. The Oracle paused at the unusual sight, his earlier conversation with Mika still ringing in his head and combining to form an uncharacteristic pang of something curiously akin to guilt. Crawford scowled at the emotion and quickly directed his anger towards the still oblivious telepath. "What are you still doing in here? Shouldn't you be out trying to sink even lower in the eyes of society? 

Schuldig turned to look at Crawford, the movement jolting his hand and causing a large lump of ash to fall onto the expensive carpet. Disregarding both the mess and the way Crawford's eyes narrowed at the smouldering dirt, the German allowed an unpleasant smirk to spread across his face. "Even scum like me needs a night off every once in a while, Brad. And in any case, it seemed like you were doing such a good job in covering for me, I felt my absence wouldn't be missed for one night"

Pressing his lips tightly together at the thinly veiled insult, Crawford turned away and removed his suit jacket. "I have a task for you that I'd like you to start as soon as possible."

Rising to his feet only to lean against the wall in a pose of studied nonchalance, Schuldig glared at Crawford. "If it's another request to hunt down Void, forget it. The guy's off the mental radar so do something useful yourself and have a bloody vision to sort out collection arrangements."

Continuing to calmly fold and place his jacket down on the couch, Crawford sat down next to it. "Hunt appears to already have him, at least for now. I have a slightly different course of action in mind. Do you recall your little discovery about our sullen swordsman?"

Beginning to rise out of his self-imposed mood enough to get interested, the German idly tugged on an overlong strand of orange hair. "How is he going to help us in getting Void away from the Abtrünnigen? You going to just ask nicely or something? That stubborn bastard seems very insistent on keeping hold of Void."

Crawford permitted himself a small smile. "That is why I am going to offer him a trade. For something he holds even more important than Void. But I'll need you to do a little groundwork for me."

Schuldig raised an eyebrow. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

"There's someone I want you to get in contact with."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Coldness. Liquid falling on his face. Rain? Yohji felt himself frown and forced open his eyes. He was sitting on the cold concrete pavement of the alleyway outside the flower shop, slumped against the wall. Drizzle was falling lightly on his exposed face and hair. Yohji began to raise a hand to wipe it away only to find his arm pinned in place by the silent redhead propped against his side. Ran was still out cold and Yohji blinked at the man a couple of times before turning his confused gaze back to the alley itself. What the fuck was going on? How did he get here? Yohji raised his free arm to brush his hair out of his face and froze again at the sight of the limb stained a deep red colour. Glancing down at himself, the blond realised he was virtually soaked in blood. And none of it was his.

Fighting a losing battle against the rising panic, Yohji turned and virtually clung to Fujimiya as he pulled both of them to their feet. His body had started shaking, deep jerking spasms that threatened to send him completely off balance. Yohji buried his face in the crook of Ran's neck before lurching towards the apartment. Just get inside, he told himself. Ask questions later, but first just get inside. Don't think about anything else.

The apartment was completely silent as Yohji entered; Ken and Omi were obviously fast asleep. Somehow, Yohji made his way up the stairs to his room and deposited the redhead on the bed. He didn't even want to think about dealing with Ran's inevitably locked door in his current state. After pulling Ran's boots off and making sure the redhead was lying comfortably, Yohji drew the blankets up around the silent form and began to pace around the room. He had to keep busy, find something to take his mind off what was wrong with him. He glanced at the redhead lying in the bed again and frowned, his mind going back to the conversation he'd had with the Frenchman who'd started this whole thing. He'd been certain that Ran wasn't the medical student he claimed to be, had said that it was just a cover and the redhead was really there to watch Yohji. Watch him for what? For circumstances like this?

Yohji paced some more. Then suddenly he remembered about the basement, the room that was kept off-limits as it was 'where Ran does all his medical work'. Surely that would be where he could find proof that everything that Pan had said was a lie? Biting his lower lip, Yohji turned and made his way out of the room towards the steps that would take him down into the basement. He'd show that fucking bastard. Whatever else he had to worry about right now, Ran's loyalty was not in question. He had faith in the redhead.

Yohji found the lights for the basement at the top of the flight of stairs that lead down into the room. He flipped the switch and glanced down into the interior. Couch, widescreen television, a low table and a computer terminal sitting in the corner. The blond made his way down the stairs, glancing around as he did so. The room was spacious and sparsely decorated: functional, nothing more. Just what he'd expect from Fujimiya, even if he couldn't see piles of medical texts lying anywhere. This was the modern age though; it was probably all stored on the computer. Yohji made his way over to the terminal, only to bang his foot against something lying on the floor. He glanced down and saw a sheathed katana lying at his feet.

With a frown Yohji knelt down and picked up the object, sliding the weapon a couple of inches out of the protective sheath. The blade glinted at him, wickedly sharp and from the scratches, well used. His hands clenched unconsciously on the katana, before Yohji forced himself to relax. It was just for practising, a way to relieve stress. God knows the redhead would be just the type to bottle everything up and then need to take out all that aggression somehow. Nothing out of the ordinary. The blond replaced the sword and raised his eyes to see a leather coat hanging on the far wall. From the size, it had to be Fujimiya's, and Yohji wondered just where the redhead would wear such a combination of black leather and buckles. Without really being aware of it, he crossed over to the garment and ran his hand gently along the material. It dipped into one of the deep pockets and halted as it came into contact with something soft and silken. With a growing sense of numbness, Yohji slowly raised his hand to find strands of long hair clenched between his fingers. They were a golden honey blond in colour and slightly wavy. Yohji let them fall to the ground without even bothering to glance at the bangs that fell forward, obscuring his eyes. He knew whom that hair belonged to.

//_Say, you're not someone I knew from before the accident, are you? And are trying to suck up to me while I still can't remember that you stole my girlfriend or something?_//

That just left the computer. Yohji turned to look at it, feeling his jaw harden. Did he really want to see what was stored away in there? Before he'd even finished the thought, Yohji was at the terminal, punching the power button with far more force than was necessary and causing the unit to wobble on its stand. The screen flickered to life as the systems powered up and Yohji watched with an increasing feeling of distance. He placed his hands lightly by the keyboard as he waited to find out just how deep the betrayal went.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The last two gentlemen who stepped off the recently arrived flight from Germany seemed no different to the other assorted business men and frequent flyers that made up the First Class lounge. The expensively tailored suits appeared barely creased, despite the twelve hour flight and both men walked through customs with a determination and energy to their pace that the other passengers appeared to have lost somewhere over Russia. They were met by an equally well-dressed man and promptly made their way to a sleek black Mercedes. If anyone gave them more than a moment's attention, it was simply caused by envy of the obviously affluent Europeans.

Once inside the car, the oldest of the new arrivals removed his suit jacket and glared at the man behind the wheel. "Tell me, Janus, why is the blind man driving the car?"

"In Tokyo's traffic, not being able to see the driving of those around you is a definite advantage, Melmoth," Janus replied calmly as he pulled into the busy flow of cars that swarmed around the airport. "Besides, I am the only one capable of remembering you drive on the left here."

"As amusing as it is to hear you bicker like children, we are here for a reason," the third man commented in a bored tone. "Janus, have you seen anything further on the Schwarz situation?"

"It's as we suspected," Janus replied. "With Void's absence, Mastermind is showing signs of dissension. Regardless of Schwarz's success in regaining Void, steps will have to be taken to deal with the telepath before he causes the whole group to be affected."

"I knew it," Melmoth muttered. "That one was trouble from the beginning. We should have done this years ago." He glanced at the third man accusingly. "Gil-Martin should have done this years ago."

"His talent is remarkable though. I felt that outweighed any case of teenage rebellion," the man commented in the same uninterested tone. "Obviously his dislike of authority was not something he grew out of. But I am a telepath, not a pre-cog, you can't expect me to know these things."

Janus smiled without warmth. "Even the Delphic Unit had trouble reading the future of that one, he spent far too much time hanging around with Void while his talent was still active. Crawford has seen some of the telepath's future, but not all of it. He knows only that the man will let himself be shot by Void should he not return to Schwarz."

Melmoth and Gil-Martin traded glances before the telepath leaned forwards and raised an eyebrow. "Indulge us for a moment, Janus. What was the rest of the vision?"

Janus told them and all three men laughed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ran awoke slowly, becoming aware that the bed he was lying in was far too soft to be his own. He frowned and hissed as the muscles in his face chose that moment to make their bruised state known. Hazy memories of the evening began to surface in his mind. Going to the club with Yohji and beginning to feel extremely light-headed after the first few drinks. Dancing pressed close against the taller man and … oh god. The last thing he could remember with any real certainty was very definitely coming onto the blond. He hadn't…? They hadn't…?

Ran cautiously moved an arm out to the side only to encounter an empty bed. In addition, he still seemed to be fully dressed. The alcohol must have made him pass out and Yohji carried him home. Ran bit back a groan. He was never going to live this one down.

"You're awake then."

Ran's eyes blinked fully awake at the sound of Yohji's voice. There was something wrong, the blond never sounded that cold and distant. Wondering why he was feeling so panicked at the change in the other man's demeanour; Ran worked himself up onto his elbows and then sat up.

Yohji was sat against the wall opposite the end of the bed, staring at Ran with green eyes full of an expression Ran didn't want to identify. His knees were drawn up and hugged into his chest and the man seemed to be covered in blood. Instantly Ran was full of concern and flung the blankets off in his hurry to get to the other man's side. "Yohji, what the hell happened? Are you hurt? Let me look at you."

He had barely gotten off the bed when a glare from the blond stopped him dead. It was full of anger and not a little bitterness. "I found out two things last night," Yohji said; each word sharply defined through the effort of preventing emotion seeping into his speech. "I can't trust you."

The words hit Ran like a physical blow and he sagged onto the bed unable to look away from the reproach on Kudoh's face. He opened his mouth to speak, to apologise, to try and explain, but nothing came out. He simply sat watching Kudoh study his reaction.

The man gave a slight smile, a bitter twisting of one side of his mouth. "But that wasn't the only thing I found out." Yohji broke off suddenly, looking away and gulping for breath as a shudder gripped his body. Ran made to go to him, but something stilled his movements. Yohji turned back and his face was tense with the effort his next words took. "I can't trust you and … and I don't think you can trust me."

That said, the blond's eyes slid closed and his head collapsed onto his knees. Ran sat on the bed and watched him, unable to think of any way to respond.

TBC

Translation of Legion/Pan dialogue:

Pan: Damn quiet.

Legion: Would you prefer a chorus?

Pan: Shut it. Has he woken up?

Legion: Not yet. The drugs should last a bit longer.

Legion: Awake at last! You're as lazy as ever, Yue.

Pan: And you said he hadn't seen you. My God (Pan's French)! You're supposed to be telepathic!

Legion: Kiss my arse. Long time no see, Yue.

Pan: Stop. He can't understand us.

Abtrünnigen – renegades, deserters. 


	8. Chapter Eight

Force of Habit: Chapter Eight

Warnings: Having spent much of the previous seven parts doing little more than setting up a multitude of different angsting angles for our main characters, I hope I'll be forgiven if I start exploiting them shamelessly now. I've been waiting to rub salt in the wounds for far too long and once it's out of my system plot progression can resume as normal. Any foreign languages used will be translated at the bottom. Oh yeah, and to avoid any of that 'can't place it and it's going to annoy me' sense of semi-recognition, the story that Gil-Martin refers to is Angela Carter's The Loves of Lady Purple.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The spring breeze was warm, but not overly so as it brushed through his hair and sent the orange strands snapping across his face. In an accustomed gesture, the German readjusted his bandana, fixing the majority of the troublesome bangs away from his eyes. The problem temporarily corrected, he turned back to his companion and smiled in the most charming manner he knew. "I've got to admit it, Schätzchen, this is one luscious dreamworld you're living in."  He glanced around again, taking in the scenery. "It's like something out of those fancy guidebooks you see on coffee tables. The sakura, the ornamental pond … hell you even got those bloody koi fish."

His companion remained silent, simply staring out across the pond's waters. Schuldig watched her for a moment before moving to sit down next to her. The grass was soft and springy, but not in the least bit damp as it no doubt would be in reality. Propping his elbows up, the telepath leaned back and looked up at the stationary figure. "At first when I found out who you were, I didn't believe it for an instant. You look nothing like him. But watching you be all still and silent, I'm beginning to detect some family traits."

There was the faintest flicker of movement, causing a wide smirk to break out on the European's face. "Ah, I get it. You're waiting for him to come and visit you, aren't you? And you're upset 'cause he hasn't shown up in so long." Making his voice soft and low, Mastermind rose up to lean closer to the girl. "What an awful brother he is to you, Aya. Leaving you trapped in here with your loneliness. You're not like him; you could never stand to be by yourself and now that's what you're forced to endure. Day after day of just waiting to hear a voice that isn't performing some medical checks or observing your condition, it must be terrible."

A tear slipped from her eye, caught almost at that very instant by the telepath's reflexes. "He's abandoned you, Aya," Schuldig whispered, using his close proximity to murmur the words a fraction of an inch away from the teenager's ear. "But I'm here, and I'm listening. I can hear you Aya, hear all those fears that you're longing to tell someone. You don't want to be silent and now you don't have to."

"Who…" Aya's voice was soft and hesitant from the long period of disuse. She blinked at the sound, as if shocked to hear herself speaking, but forced herself to continue. "Who are you?"

The German smiled at her, taking care to make his eyes seem warm and friendly. He sensed her hesitation, but also her desperate need for someone to talk to, someone to keep her company. For a moment, he wondered at giving her the name he was so used to hearing himself be called, but catching a few memories of German lessons in the girl's past, decided against it. "I suppose you can call me Sascha."

Aya smiled back. "That's really pretty," she commented. Pausing again the faintest frown crossed her face. "How is it you can be here and talk with me? I can normally only hear voices."

"Ah, my little Sleeping Beauty, I am a little different from other people," Schuldig pitched his voice low and leaned forwards, noting how Aya unconsciously mimicked his action to share in the confessional. "I can slip inside people's heads. That's how I'm here now."

Instead of the recoil he'd been expecting, Aya's eyes went as wide as saucers; mirroring the perfect 'o' her mouth had formed. "That's amazing," she breathed, unable to keep the awe from her voice. "Can you read my mind? What am I thinking right now?" Aya's face screwed up in concentration.

Schuldig chuckled to himself. "Not so loud, Schätzchen, you'll deafen me. And how dare you think this colour came out a bottle." He cocked his head as Aya opened her eyes again. "You're a strange one, Kleine, most people would be upset to realise I could intrude on their thoughts."

Aya smiled slightly and turned her gaze back to the scenery. "Anything's better than this. It's so quiet in here. I hate it." Her lower lip quivered for a moment and she ducked her head to hide the tears that were pricking at her eyes. "It wasn't so bad before, when Ran used to see me. He'd come nearly every day, but now it's been so long that I think he's given up on me. He doesn't want to waste anymore of his time talking to a sister who won't ever answer him back."

Schuldig placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Hey, it's okay," he soothed. "You've got me now and I promise, I won't give up on you." Moving his hand up to Aya's chin, he turned the girl's face to his. "Anytime you want to talk to me, you just have to think about me and I'll hear you."

Aya looked at him doubtfully. "Will you really?"

Another smile broke out on the German's face. "Ich verspreche, Schätzchen."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Good morning!"

Manx blinked in surprise at the cheerful welcome until her brain caught up with her hearing and revealed the figure standing half hidden behind the swarm of customers was not Fujimiya, but Tsukiyono. She made her way over to the teenager and smiled warmly back at him. "Good morning Omi. I thought Ran and Yohji were minding the shop today?"

The blond shrugged as he expertly wrapped a bouquet of lilies and passed them to a blushing customer. "Yohji's off sick today and Ran asked me to switch shifts so he could keep an eye on him." He paused and glanced up at the Kritiker agent. "Would you like me to get Ran for you?"

The redheaded woman had to resist the urge to ruffle the messy blond bangs as the youth blinked up at her with large, innocent eyes. Stamping firmly on her sudden influx of maternal instincts, Manx shook her head politely. "Thank you, but that will not be necessary. I am merely here to inform Ran that he will not be needed at the hospital for the next three days." A sour look flittered over the woman's face. "It appears that our smoke detectors are not in line with recent government specifications and the entire place is in chaos while the workman are getting them updated." Chaos that would not have ground so much of Kritiker's cover activities to a halt if Manx had been aware of the newly changed guidelines, a fact that was causing the agent more than a little stress. The smartly dressed, apologetic man who had shown up in her office this morning had very nearly had his head bitten off, before he'd been able to show the guidelines and appropriate forms. Manx had been lucky; he'd been able to recommend a firm that could replace the units immediately. And she was blaming Abyssinian for everything. That stubborn man and his equally stubborn refusal to just hand over Void was the sole reason she wasn't thinking as clearly as she needed to. "I trust extra shifts in the Koneko will cover any loss of wages." Oh yes, inflict the one thing that could hurt the man, monetary loss. Manx regretted that she wasn't able to tell Fujimiya personally, no doubt Omi would pass on the message, but in such a way that the implied rebuke would probably go unnoticed.

Omi's eyes had widened at the news. "I hadn't heard anything about that," he commented. "Will we have to change the ones for the Koneko as well?"

Manx shook her head. "Apparently it only applies to hospitals and other health-related public buildings." She glanced around at the growing crowds and smiled briefly at the boy. "It looks like I had better let you get back to your work."

Omi nodded. "Thank you for the message, Manx-san. I'll be sure to pass it on."

Manx turned to go, but suddenly stopped as a thought occurred to her. "Could you also let Kudoh know that he is expected for a check-up sometime within the next week? Preferably after the upheaval with the smoke detectors is sorted."

"Of course, Manx-san. Have a pleasant day!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Why are we the ones on clean-up duty," the teenaged girl whined petulantly as she surveyed the carnage with a screwed up nose. "This is Pan and Legion's mess, they should be the ones sorting it out."

"I feel it inadvisable to send Legion underground twice in such a short space of time, you know how the man can get," her elder companion remarked in his clipped accent. "And Pan has an important task to oversee at the moment, being the most inconspicuous of us all." Withdrawing a handkerchief from his suit pocket, the man placed it over his nose and bent to examine the bodies. "Most interesting."

"Well? Did they get Yue to use his powers or not? Come on, Odin," Mika begged. "There's a film I want to see and it starts soon." At the continued silence, the girl dug into her pocket and withdrew a packet of brightly coloured gummi-bears only to have them snatched away. "Hey!"

"These will come in very useful," Odin muttered. "Come on, we have to see inside the cell where they held Yue." They stepped outside into the corridor and Mika found herself halted by an outstretched arm. "But first, would you care to tell me what you notice about the sweets?"

Mika watched as the bag was shaken and then held in front of her face. "They're still there. I don't know, what am I supposed to see? They're just gummi-bears!"

Odin held up the bag to his own face and examined the contents through the clear plastic packaging. "The problem with Yue's ability is that it is very hard to actually pin down when the man is using it," the Englishman explained. "Its very nature causes it to be hidden, but there are tricks one can use. If I was to separate the contents of this bag by their colours and then shake them again, what would happen?"

Mika faked a large yawn. "Yeah, yeah, they'd mix up. Entropy. What's with the science lesson?"

"Follow me." Odin strode into the room where the blond had been held, Mika just a few steps behind him. The bag was thrust into her hands again. "Now shake them."

Rolling her eyes, Mika did as instructed and then felt her mouth drop open. "What the fuck…" The little confectionary bears had formed small groups of solid colour within the packet, not fully separated but close to it. The girl shook the bag again, but the result remained the same. "What is this?"

Odin was bent over the handcuffs, but glanced over at the girl and smiled. "Residue. And it would appear that Yue's ability is once again active, though not at its full power. Pan and Legion have succeeded in establishing that vital fact." With little more than a glance around the rest of the room, Odin made for the exit. "Come on, we need to set the timer."

Mika paused for a moment before tearing after the European. "Hey! You mean Pan and Legion weren't supposed to keep Yue? That they intended for him to escape? Why does no one tell me these things!"

"Presumably so there remains a chance that Schuldig and the rest of Schwarz remain in the dark about our intentions." Odin watched as the teenager blushed. "I take it they have no desire to give up on trying to reclaim their lost team-member?"

Mika shook her head. "Crawford's being the same stubborn arsehole as always. Even with Sascha's life on the line, that bastard's still only concerned about getting Void back." The young girl sighed and pulled at some strands that were covering her eyes. "Poor Sascha, it would kill him if he found out."

The man beside her blinked and paused for a moment. "Yes, well, regardless, he chose Schwarz and must live with the consequences. In any case, even if you were to offer him the chance to join us, I doubt he'd agree. For someone that presents himself as being without any virtues, that man has some ridiculously idealistic notions." Stopping in front of the device they'd set in upon their arrival, Odin quickly set the timer and then glanced at his companion. "The bomb goes off in five minutes, I trust you can get us somewhere far enough removed in that time?"

Mika snorted and withdrew a handful of sand from the opposite pocket to the one that had housed the confectionary. "In five minutes I can get us out of Tokyo completely. Now grab on."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Crawford would have thought the basic reasoning quite logical. When in the presence of someone who had the power to kill you at a moment's notice, it was better for your own personal safety to at least attempt to be gracious and polite. But a telepath in a strop is a force to be reckoned with and Schuldig showed no signs of even rising to the most basic civilities. The Oracle glared at the sullen redhead, who was sat next to an unusually calm and quiet Farfarello and silently prayed that the elders were in a good mood.

"Was für ein Gesicht!" Melmoth remarked to his companions as the three elders took their seats at the opposite end of the table. For some reason, the three elders seemed more amused than annoyed by Schuldig's glowering expression. Crawford wondered briefly as to the reason why, but quickly averted that train of thought. Whatever it was would no doubt be something he was better off not knowing.

"Since there is no reason to delay this meeting any longer, we may as well begin," The head of Esset's Delphic Unit announced as he adjusted the dark glasses that hid his ruined eyes. "You managed to lose a very valuable tool of Esset's and the logical point at which to start this investigation is undoubtedly why an injured member of your team was left where he could be captured by an enemy faction."

Schuldig shrugged, speaking before Crawford had the chance to answer. "We thought he was dead. It's not like you can tell the difference with the guy."

Melmoth looked at the redhead sourly. "One would think an assassin would be able to recognise the difference between living and dead."

"And one would think that if it was so easy, the all-powerful elders might have noticed the mistake before we did," the German telepath shot back. A second later he went flying out of his seat to impact against the wall as Melmoth flicked a hand in his direction.

"We would have expected more discipline from you, Crawford," Gil-Martin commented idly as he watched the now unconscious redhead slump to the floor. "Yet it appears you have been somewhat lax in keeping the more rebellious elements in line."

Crawford also glanced over at Schuldig and narrowed his eyes. "This is a recent thing, I assure you. I can only guess that it's in some way related to the Void situation. Perhaps he feels bitter that he was unable to realise the mistake sooner, what with being so well acquainted with Void's mental patterns."

"Perhaps," the head telepath agreed. "In any case, perhaps we can now get down to a proper discussion. Melmoth? If you would be so kind as to remove the disturbance." He watched for a moment as Schuldig was dragged from the room before turning back to face the three remaining Schwarz. "As you are no doubt aware, the members of Hunt will almost certainly be looking to take advantage of our lapse if they have not already."

"According to Hunt, they already have Void," Crawford supplied without emotion. "Although, whether they'll succeed in keeping hold of him is highly doubtful."

Janus nodded in agreement, that strange smile lingering on his lips once again. "Should events continue in their present course, it would appear that the unit to keep close observation on is this unknown group of young men. They appear to have the strongest hold on Void for now and so it follows that if we remove this group from the equation, Void will be forced to choose between Hunt or Schwarz."

"That's reassuring," Crawford muttered dryly. "What makes you so sure that he'll willingly return?"

"After eleven years effectively without a mind of his own, the only thing that Void truly has are his instincts. He is a creature of habit and so will return to what is familiar," Gil-Martin announced, brushing a speck of dirt from his otherwise immaculate suit. "As the story goes, even when the puppet's strings are cut, it will still perform the only actions it knows. He won't have a choice in the matter."

The Oracle watched the three elders and the small knowing smiles that flickered between them and felt his features draw into a small frown. There was something being withheld from him, some event or consequence that he hadn't seen and was deliberately being kept unaware of. And he couldn't for the life of him work out what it was.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ran couldn't believe he was doing this. Some small part of his brain that was still rational was screaming protests in an attempt to get him to see reason and give up on this idea. It went against all his training. It was irresponsible and foolhardy. There was no logic to it. Ran closed his eyes and drew his breath in slowly. He reopened his eyes as he exhaled and felt his gaze harden in determination. For some reason he didn't want to name, none of what his mind was telling him seemed important. The only fact he could concentrate on was that since their night out, the blond hadn't left his room for two whole days.

"Yohji…" When both his first and second attempts at knocking went answered, Ran cautiously tried the door. It was unlocked and swung open without any projectile objects impacting on the wood. Ran took it as a good sign. He stepped inside and firmly closed the door behind him. "I think we need to talk."

"What you mean to say is that you've spent the last two days in deep thought and think you've now found a satisfactory way to talk yourself out of the shit you've gotten into," Yohji commented in an acidic tone. The blond was sat by the window and from the large number of cigarette butts, had clearly been there for some time. "What crap are you going to try and feed me this time?"

Ran stepped nearer, trying to keep his temper under control. It would do him absolutely no good to get angry now. "What happened that night, Yohji? Why has it affected you like this?" There was a note that sounded suspiciously like pleading in his voice and Ran winced internally. Forcing his voice into a more neutral tone, the redhead continued. "I'd like to know what I've done to deserve this treatment."

A bitter laugh answered him. "Oh that's fucking rich coming from you. I've seen the files you've got stored away on that computer, Fujimiya. The ones that list all the stuff you did to screw with my head and take away my memories." When the redhead made no response, Yohji stubbed out the remains of his cigarette and walked over to where the smaller man stood. "Tell me, Fujimiya. Just what were strands of my hair doing in your coat pocket if we'd never met until I woke up in that hospital bed?"

At this the amethyst eyes widened in surprise. "Hair? But I don't…" Ran paused as the memories of his fight with Void played back in his head. The strands of blond hair that had fallen onto his coat as he severed the makeshift rope that had been choking him. "They must have fallen into the pockets when I fell," he muttered to himself. When he looked up at the blond again, his expression was curiously remote. "And just what prompted this search? Did your memories return?"

"You really don't remember much of our night out at all, do you?" Yohji commented. "We got drugged and I woke up to find myself being greeted by a couple of people who claimed to be past acquaintances of mine. Foreigners, looked like Europeans, this ring any bells?"

"Did they tell you who they were?"

"They had some whacked out code names, but they did tell me who I was. Apparently, my real name is Yue. Feel like telling me why I woke up thinking otherwise? What else did you brainwash into me?"

Ran shifted his weight, to take another step closer to the distressed blond, but something made him hesitate. "I… the brainwashing didn't work."

The redhead found himself seized firmly by Yohji as the blond jerked his head to face furious emerald eyes. Ran tried to look away from the hurt he clearly saw within them, but Yohji refused to loosen his grip. "So you did brainwash me? And then you befriend me to keep a close eye on your little project? You sick fuck."

"No!" Ran pulled himself away from Yohji's grip, his temper finally beginning to crack under the weight of all the accusations being thrown at him. "That's what my instructions were, but I didn't go through with it. All they wanted was some mindless puppet, someone who would do whatever they said. Do you honestly think I would willingly put someone else in that situation?"

Yohji tilted his head to the side, studying Ran intently through narrowed eyes. "I guess that means Manx is the one behind this. Figured as much. And since it was her idea for me to stay here, that means Ken and Omi have to be in on it as well. Though not to the level you are, unless they're considerably better actors than you." Yohji paused for a moment and let out a short burst of humourless laughter. "Though once you got into your stride, you were more than convincing."

Ran must have made some small noise of protest that he was unaware of, for Yohji's face abruptly hardened again. "So, talk. And this better be good, Fujimiya."

Not sure where to begin, Ran took the opportunity to sit down on the bed and collect his thoughts. "If you've remembered anything, you can't let them know. They've been looking for a reason to separate you from me for a while now and something like this …" Ran sighed and glanced up at the blond. "You don't want them to find out, they'll simply brainwash you like you should have been the first time. Either that or you'll be locked away in some top-secret laboratory and experimented on."

Yohji nodded absently, unconsciously going along with the redhead's story. "But why brainwash me at all? What possible use could it serve?"

Ran swallowed and dropped his gaze to the floor, unsure of how much to tell the blond. He knew some sort of explanation was essential if Ran was to have any chance of winning back Yohji's trust, but how could he possibly tell the man that he used to be a psychotic killing-machine? "You … uh, you used to belong to a rival group to the one that I work for. Several other agents had run into you in the course of assignments, but for various reasons no real data was able to be assembled. The group you belonged to seemed to have several strange capabilities that my superiors wanted to study. When you were finally captured, they felt a docile persona would be advantageous for any extended study of you. I was the one ordered to input the new personality, but … I don't really know why I didn't follow orders. I always have before.

"Actually that's not true," the redhead corrected. "I didn't like the idea of the people that I work for having that amount of control over anyone, even someone who was technically my enemy. I don't really remember what I put into your head other than your name, but when you woke up you weren't what I was expecting. I couldn't work out how you were so normal and outgoing, it's not something I have much experience with myself, so I'm hardly the ideal person to program it into someone else."

"Okay," Yohji said after a moment's thought. "Tell me about this group I used to belong to. Who are they? How can I get in contact with them?"

Ran jumped up from the bed in alarm, grabbing the blond by the arms. "No! They'll have exactly the same intent for you as my group. They were the ones who brainwashed you for the first time."

Yohji felt himself frown as he looked into the wide violet eyes. "What?"

"Like I said, I couldn't work out how you were so normal after I effectively wiped out all your knowledge of this group. But we recently found out from those tests you took at the hospital that this isn't the first time your mind has been tampered with. You were brainwashed when I was assigned to you. All I did was wipe away the previous programming, though I didn't know that's what I was doing at the time." Letting go of his grip on the taller man, Ran slowly reached a hand up to brush the blond's cheek. He had to fight the urge to close his eyes at the sensation of Yohji's smooth skin beneath his fingers, but didn't want to look away from Yohji. He had to know if he was getting through to the man. Ran was no good at expressing his own emotions, and had no idea how to comfort the blond. "This is you, Yohji. The real you. Whatever you were before doesn't matter, because it wasn't by your choice."

Yohji placed his own hand on Ran's and gently drew the redhead's hand away from his face. "But how can I believe what you tell me when I already know you've lied to me in the past? How can I know this isn't just the new amended version of events that you're telling me? And why are you doing this anyway?"

Ran regarded him for a moment, then hesitantly murmured. "If my words can't convince you, then …" Leaning forwards, the redhead sealed the gap between him and the blond and brushed his lips against the taller man's. He had no idea of what else he could say to the man to let him know his intentions, but maybe actions could make up for the deficit. And besides anything else, this was the one thing he'd wanted to do since walking into this damn room in the first place.

The softness of the kiss and the underlying shyness behind it caught Yohji by surprise and it was a moment before he could respond.  Almost without thinking, he found himself answering the pressure against his lips and teasing open the redhead's mouth with his tongue. Ran's response was to gently press closer to the blond, his actions a million miles away from the confident aggression he'd shown in the club.

Yohji couldn't care less about that at the moment. The only information his brain was currently supplying was that he, Kudoh Yohji, was kissing Fujimiya Ran and the sensation was utter fucking bliss. Bringing his hands up, Yohji threaded his fingers through the soft strands of blood red hair and used his grip to angle Ran's face so that he could properly taste the pale skin of his graceful neck.

As Yohji traced his tongue along the veins that were just visible beneath the porcelain column, Ran gasped and arched his back at the sensations. A low moan escaped his lips and trembling fingers began to frantically tug at the buttons on the blond's shirt. There was a growing tension inside him, an overwhelming need to just touch the blond. After what seemed like an eternity, he managed to get the shirt open and pulled it roughly away from the blond before tracing his fingers lightly over the smooth expanse of toned muscle.

Yohji lifted his head away from Ran's neck, causing a small murmur of disappointment from the redhead, before his complaints were silenced by another passionate kiss. One of Ran's trailing hands grazed across a nipple and the blond felt himself shiver at the sudden rush of sensations that touch caused. If he didn't know better, Yohji would have sworn he felt the redhead's lips curve into a smile as the hands returned to trail over the hardening buds and cause the tension the blond was feeling deep inside gut to increase several fold.

Now determined more than ever to make the redhead moan and writhe in much the manner Yohji himself wanted to right now, the blond growled in his throat and pushed the uncomplaining man onto the bed. Placing his knees to either side of those hips, Yohji turned his attention back to the man's neck as his hands reached up underneath the shirt that was blocking his view of the pale skin beneath him. Running his hands over the soft skin, Yohji abruptly pulled away as his questing fingers encountered mounds of ridged flesh.

"Yohji?" Ran sounded as though he was having trouble getting his breathing back to normal and the blond glanced over to see the man's flushed face as he propped himself up on his elbows. Ran's eyes were a mixture of lust and confusion and the expression on the man's face was asking for an explanation into the sudden halt.

Yohji quirked one corner of his mouth up in a twisted smile as he watched the other man; "I want you to tell me one thing, and answer me honestly. Those scars you have, the bullet wound and the one right by it, did I give you those scars?" When the redhead didn't answer immediately, Yohji snorted and rose off the bed. "I knew it. And now you're trying to housetrain me like some fucking pet. If I did that to you once, what's to say I won't do it again? Or worse? How many times, you can't trust me, Ran."

"I think that's my decision to make, not yours."

Yohji glanced down at the redhead in surprise and found himself unable to look away from the serious expression Ran had on his face. Seeing he had the blond's attention, the redhead shifted off the bed himself, pulling his clothes back into a semblance of order. "At the end of the day, I'm the one to decide if I trust you or not. And I've made my decision. I trust you."

Yohji frowned. "But … you can't trust me." His voice sounded suspiciously close to cracking so the blond refrained from adding to that comment.

Ran simply looked at him and nodded slightly. "That's your decision to make. But you're not changing mine." He made as if to say something more but caught himself and frowned slightly. Turning to leave, he glanced back across his shoulder at the taller man who hadn't moved. "But please remember that Manx can't find out that you know about your previous identity. Don't give her any reason to suspect you. I can't protect you from her." With that said, the man left the blond to his thoughts and exited the room.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"_We are all candy, covered on the outside_

_Peel away the shell and we're rotten on the inside_"

From his position in the driver's seat of the car, Crawford glared at the German in annoyance and wondered if the elders had perhaps hit the redhead's head a touch too hard. "You've certainly cheered up."

The younger man paused in his singing to throw a trademark smirk in the American's direction. "You noticed. Why, Bradley, I never knew you cared." He batted his eyes in a mock alluring manner and when that failed to achieve any reaction other than the brunette's normal irritated snort, sighed. "If I ever get as anal and uptight as you, I hope someone fucking shoots me and ends my misery. Oh wait, that option's already covered." Seemingly unconcerned with his impending death, the European stretched and glanced out the window. "Where exactly are you dragging me at this time of night anyway?"

Indicating left, Crawford pulled the car into a recently vacated space and turned off the engine. "To meet someone who can hopefully tell us just what Void's current keepers are up to. I thought it only fair to take you along as were you doing your job properly, this would not be necessary."

Schuldig pulled a face and climbed out the car. "You told me to befriend the little precious. That's what I'm doing. If you wanted me to search through the mind of every single boring fuck who works in that hospital as well you should have said something." He leaned on the car roof and watched the American as he also climbed out of the vehicle and locked it. "Haven't you seen anything useful about that yet?"

Trying to ignore the slight pressure behind the temples that the redhead always seemed to cause when he spent too much time in his company, Crawford adjusted his glasses and waited for the other man to join him on the pavement. "According to Janus, the Delphic Unit has seen no more than I have about the Void situation. All he was able to tell me was we have less than two months to get the man back."

"It must have just killed the bastard to admit that," Schuldig commented as the pair made their way towards the bright neon of the entertainment district. "The thought of him willingly sharing information that will save my life makes you wonder what's in it for him. Ringside seats for if we fail, I guess."

Crawford frowned but didn't answer as the mild headache suddenly flared into full-blazing agony. He dimly heard the German mutter something as the lights of downtown Tokyo were abruptly washed out by a sea of white. The brightness almost blinded the American, but as his sight adjusted, he realised he was seeing the inside of a cell. The stark white of all the surfaces combined to reflect the artificial lighting in an effect obviously meant to dazzle and subdue the occupant who was sat in the corner. Even though the head was bowed so that the features were hidden from Crawford, he knew instantly who is was. There was only one person with hair in that vivid shade of orange.

The image swam and was replaced by a quick succession of faces and locations that flashed by almost too quickly to properly identify. Crawford was able to discern the face of the comatose girl in the hospital, now awake and alert as she crouched poised on a rooftop dressed in black, a dart held ready to throw in her hand at an unknown target below. He also recognised the distinctive visage of her brother, bloodied and contorted in a grimace. He saw the familiar buildings of Rosenkreuz, swathed in a thick mist that seemed to contain almost tangible shapes and five figures draped in black that ran through it. Then the images sped up again and the Oracle felt himself begin to collapse.

"Scheisse! Vorsicht! Crawford!" A pair of arms grabbed the pre-cog and hauled him backwards. The suddenness of the gesture caught the American by surprise and he lost his balance, falling heavily onto the man behind him.

"Ach, du bist schwer," Schuldig groaned as Crawford's vision refocused on the present. He glanced at the man beneath him, who abruptly ceased complaining in his loud voice and narrowed green eyes at the American in confusion. "Crawford, what is it?"

The vision's images still too close to his current thoughts, the American was unable to respond for an instant, his brain occupied in making sense of what he had seen. One part had been all too clear. And as he watched the redhead blink at him in confusion with something suspiciously close to concern in those eyes, Crawford wondered just how he was supposed to inform the man of his fate. He settled on focusing on the events immediately at hand. "What are you doing? Move."

The German dropped his head back to the pavement and rolled his eyes as the arms that still encircled Crawford dropped away. "Your welcome, your royal tight-arse. Next time you want to go walking into the middle of traffic, I'll just let you. It'll be a damn sight more fun than getting crushed by you. As for moving, just who is lying on top of who here?" The man pushed at Crawford. "Move your own damn self off me and let me get up. I'm not a bloody telekinetic, you know."

Mechanically, Crawford got to his feet and straightened his suit, the emotionless mask now firmly back in place. As they set off again, he could feel the other man's gaze on him, just as he could detect the probing as the telepath tried vainly to read his mind, but he ignored it. He had a suspicion he now knew the reason behind the elder's smirks and amusement when they mentioned the German.

It was something that he heard people mutter about, but had never really paid that much attention to in Rosenkreuz. After all, a punishment given to rebellious telepaths was not something that concerned a pre-cog who saw no point in defying those much more powerful than himself. But rumours had a tendency to spread, especially amongst the younger students and from the horror stories and gossip Crawford had been able to discern just how Gil-Martin kept the other telepaths in line.

The logic behind it was simple enough. The telepath in question was sedated with a carefully measured amount of drugs that would disable shielding, but leave the mind virtually fully conscious yet unable to respond. Having effectively locked the telepath into a state where they could only hear voices without any way of blocking the noise out, the telepath was then placed in an asylum. Forced to listen to the wail of so many broken minds, the telepath would also succumb to madness, but only after a considerable period of time had elapsed. The telepath would then either be left to remain in the madhouse indefinitely, or removed and killed.

To find out that the elders intended this for Schuldig was not overly surprising, in fact Crawford wondered why it had never occurred to him before. The fact that disturbed Crawford was the lack of any way of saving his colleague other than to let him get shot by Void. Quickening his pace, the American began to leave the German behind. This future was not acceptable. He intended for Schwarz to remain as it was and he was damn well going to think of a way to let it happen.

TBC

Incredibly short burst of seemingly random lyrics: Lollyrot by Jack off Jill. I needed something for the guy to sing and it was what was on winamp at that moment in time.

Translations: 

Schatz: endearment, literally meaning precious or treasure. The –chen suffix is used in much the same manner as the Japanese –chan, in this case meaning "little treasure/darling".

Versprechen: to promise

Scheisse: Shit. You should all know this one by now.

Vorsicht: Watch out!

Du bist schwer: You're heavy.


	9. Chapter Nine

Force of Habit: Chapter Nine

Note: No, I'm not dead and neither is this story. I was just out of commission due to several events that followed on from one another and this is my first real chance to sit down and write on a computer that has both my work on it and a network connection. And this part has to dedicated completely to my sister who has not ceased to nag for one day since the last part came out. A considerable achievement when you're in different countries. And if my betas haven't given up completely on me – let me know. And consider the poem a portent – I've decided it's time to get some action going.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tonight, tonight I say goodbye

To everyone who loves me

Stick it to my enemies tonight

Then I disappear

Bathe my path in shining light

Set the dials to thrill me

Every secret has its price

This one's set to kill

Too loose, too tight, too dark, too bright

A lie, the truth, which one should I use?

If the lie succeeds

Then you'll know what I mean

When I tell you I have secrets

To attend

Do you think I'm beautiful?

Or do you think I'm evil?

                                GREG DULLI, Crime Scene Part One

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

//"_I don't believe the pair of you. I've been turning Rosenkreuz upside down to find you two and what are you doing? Posing!"_

_"Yue, your girlfriend seems upset about something."_

_"Relax Sasch. She's just pissed that we've got better hair."_

_"Girly hair is what you've got. You know people are beginning to wonder about you both and the matching sunglasses aren't going to help any."_

_"Calm down Asuka. Why are you so worked up anyway?"_

_"I've spent the morning avoiding that royal wanker Crawford. He's in an even worse mood than usual and I suggest you two troublemakers keep out his way."_

_"What have we done now? Yue … man, you know I don't trust that grin! What the fuck did you do?"_

_"Nothing! Well … nothing much."_

_"Sascha, are you aware that someone's been teaching Mika German again?"_

_"Yeah, and? She needs to know something other than Japanese. It's considered polite to learn the language of the country you live in."_

_"You obviously haven't heard what she's been hollering around the building then. Unfortunately Crawford has and he doesn't seem happy."_

_"Yue, if you don't stop laughing I'm going to scramble your brains so bad all you'll be able to do for the rest of your mortal life is drool."_

_"That's all he does anyway Sascha."_

_"Asuka! You wound me deeply! I'm just showing appreciation for beauty."_

_"Don't give me those puppy dog eyes. And Sascha is the one you should be sucking up to right now."_

_"Yue, what did you teach the brat?"_

_"Considering she's running over here, I guess you'll find out for yourself. And where do you think you're sneaking off to, Yue?"_

_"Sascha!!!! Here you are!!!! Sascha!!!!"_

_"Ugh. Töte mich, bitte." _(Kill me, please.)__

_"Sascha!!! I learnt some German!!!! Wanna hear??? Wanna hear????"_

_"It doesn't look like you're going to get a choice there, Sascha."_

_"Asuka… a little help in getting rid of the brat here, please."_

_"Sascha liebt Brad!!!! Sascha liebt Braaaaa~haaaad!!!!!" _(Sascha loves Brad.)

_"Yue …"_

_"Oh shit. Look man, it was just a joke. Calm down."_

_"Ich bringe dich um!!!!"_ (I'm going to kill you.) //

With a small growl, the telepath shook his head sharply, as though the violent action could somehow dislodge and remove the remembered wisps of conversation. If anything the voices just increased in volume, bringing with them images he thought he'd forgotten years ago. A blond roommate, his wavy hair hastily tied back into a ponytail, grinning with mischievous eyes over a pair of sunglasses that steadily slipped down his nose. An attractive Japanese teenager glaring at the pair of them, her expression one of long-suffering and nearly snapping patience while another much younger Asian girl bounced around full of energy and desperately trying to gain his attention. Snarling at the reminders of the past, Schuldig angrily kicked the sheets away from his body and swung his legs out of bed. Grabbing the packet of cigarettes on the small table, the redhead stalked over to the window and pulled one of the pale sticks from the pack. The sudden glare of the lighter caused his reflection to briefly show in the glass and the sight just served to irritate the telepath more. Slumping against the window, he pressed an arm against the cold glass and rested his head against the limb. His narrowed eyes focused on the activity of the city below even though his mind was still engaged elsewhere.

//_"You ever wonder what we'd be doing if we weren't stuck here?"_

_"Not really. Seems a bit pointless."_

_"Sascha, listen. You're my closest friend and I care for you deeply but sometimes you can be such a pessimistic arsehole."_

_"Fuck off. Okay then, what would you be if Rosenkreuz never decided to get their hands on your worthless blond arse?"_

_"Going by my looks, my air of mystery, love of danger and beautiful women and fantastic intelligence, there's only one clear option. Private detective. Going by my own rules, skirting the law and breaking hearts to reveal the seedy underbelly of the city."_

_"Yue? Stop watching Bogart films. Plus don't tell Asuka about that, the true loves have a tendency to ditch you or get shot."_

_"Nah, got that covered. She'll be my secretary who carries a deep unspoken love for me."_

_"How much time do you spend thinking about this?"_

_"How much time do we spend getting crap forced into our heads?"_

_"Ok then Yue, what do you reckon that guy over there would be doing?"_

_"Which one Sasch? There's a whole group."_

_"That new one. What's his name … uhh … Farfalle or something."_

_"That's a type of pasta, Sascha."_

_"Would you stop being a smartarse and get on with it? If he wasn't in Rosenkreuz, what would he be doing?"_

_"Too easy. Running his own piercing parlour."_

_"Oh yeah? What would it be called?"_

_"Holier than thou."_

_"Man that's lame."_

_"Why you laughing then? So come on Sascha, without Rosenkreuz who would you be?"_

_"A freak."_//

The hand against the window clenched into a fist and struck hard against the glass. Schuldig felt his features twist into another snarl and ground the still burning filter against the windowsill with enough force to break the cigarette in two. It wasn't fair, goddamn it. That fucking bastard got all the breaks. Void, no, Yue was out there somewhere happily creating a life without Esset and its operatives dictating every second that he lived by. He was somewhere far beyond the Delphic Unit's all seeing, yet non-existent eyes and the blond _Scheissdreck_ wasn't even aware of his fucking stroke of luck. Not a single memory of eleven years of hell, not the slightest idea what he'd been. But Schuldig was still here, still fully aware of every single sin he committed and the fact that the act of killing no longer had any effect on him. And Yue, without a single action of his own to aid his escape had neatly risen above the blood and filth, had shed all the taint like a snake sheds its skin and not once glanced back. And didn't the little fucker just have it all right now. An identity, a protective watchdog who seemed desperate to fling his beautiful body at the blond, and every chance of remaining out of Esset's clutches for the rest of his life.

Willing the anger back, Schuldig glared sullenly at the floor, noting the flecks of ash that had fallen onto the carpet. Reaching out a foot, the German ground them deeper into the thick pile, creating stains that the Esset hired cleaners would no doubt have trouble removing. The bastard had never been made to suffer like the redhead had, even though the whole incident had been Yue's fucking idea in the first place. Even the time as Void couldn't be called punishment, after all, a prison can only exist if one is not only aware of the bars that surround, but also that there is something better to be had just out of reach. That had been Schuldig's punishment. Made to watch the man who had once been his friend kill and maim and not have even the slightest awareness of the acts he committed. And now the _Wichser_ was rewarded with freedom.

Yanking another cigarette from the crunched pack, Schuldig sparked up and inhaled deeply as his eyes narrowed. No fucking way. He was not going to accept this. One way or another that bastard had to pay, had to suffer like Schuldig had these past eleven years. And this time the redhead was not going to settle for just messing with the fucker's head. Yue was going to be made to suffer.

Exhaling a lungful of smoke, Schuldig felt his shoulders relax and a smirk cross his features as a familiar presence tugged at the edges of his awareness. It appeared the little precious was feeling lonely and in need of some well chosen words of sympathy and comfort.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Yawning widely as he crossed the expanse of kitchen that stood between him and the fridge, Ken couldn't help but notice the bowed blond head shuffling through a large stack of papers. "You cannot be working this early in the morning, Omi." Swinging open the fridge door, Ken buried his head inside the unit searching for something that would make a moderately healthy breakfast.

"What do you mean 'this early'? The shop opens in another half hour," came the youth's slightly puzzled voice from behind the foraging brunette. Ken could just picture the scene behind him, those large blue eyes blinking underneath a slightly frowning forehead, and diverted himself by grabbing some apples.

Remerging, Ken turned to face the blond as he took a large bite out of the fruit in his hand. "I didn't mean shop work," he mumbled around the mouthful. "I meant /work/ work."

The expression on Omi's face abruptly cleared back into its usual sunny grin. "Oh! No, this is Koneko related. I just wanted to check something."

Ken crossed over to the table and swung into the seat opposite his younger co-worker. "Oh?" He frowned slightly and swallowed another mouthful. "Did you ask Ran first? You know what that guy is like with accounts and stuff."

"Uh, no. This is just something Manx mentioned that I was concerned about." Omi passed the papers over for Ken to inspect, a small glint of amusement shining in his eyes for some reason. "She was complaining about how the hospital had to change all their smoke detectors to come into compliance with new health and safety guidelines and I wanted to check that the ones in the Koneko were still okay."

Not willing to shuffle through the stack of paper containing lots of governmental bureaucracy no doubt printed out from the internet, Ken glanced at the young blond. "And? Are they?"

Omi nodded, the gleam of amusement now accompanied by a small smile. "But that's not all. There are no new guidelines for hospitals either. The sales person Manx saw made it all up."

Ken nearly choked on his fruit. "Manx got conned? There's a turn up for the books. Have you told her yet?"

"Ken! I'm not that stupid! And anyway, I get the feeling she'll just blame Ran for everything."

"Blame me for what?"

Both younger men jumped and faced the redhead who stood in the doorway to the kitchen. Rolling his eyes, Ken slumped back in his seat as Omi smiled in greeting. "Good morning Ran! We were talking about Manx. She was in here yesterday complaining about money she was having to spend, but it seems like she got conned and didn't realise."

"So Omi and I thought about what would drive that woman to be so distracted that she wouldn't notice such a blatant scam and guess what we came up with?" Ken added as he finished the last of his breakfast.

"Hn." Ran narrowed his eyes slightly and crossed over to the worktop to begin making himself a cup of tea. Placing the tea into the pot, he turned back to face the two younger men as he waited for the water to boil. Noticing the looks that were being cast in his direction, the redhead frowned. "What?"

"Well, Ken and I have been meaning to bring this up, but…"

"What the hell's gotten into you lately? Have you realised you've gone completely mad?"

"Ken!" Omi darted his gaze nervously away from the angry man opposite him to the redhead who stood with dangerously narrowed eyes. The blond opened his mouth to defuse the tense atmosphere, but Ran swiftly cut him off.

"What precisely are you referring to?" Despite the calm coolness of his voice, one glance at the man's eyes was warning enough for Omi to hurriedly look down at the papers. Ken, lacking any inclination to study body language, interpreted the statement as a genuine request for information.

"The way you've been acting lately, man. You're completely bi-polar! One second you can't stand to be near Yohji, the next you're never away from his side."

"Ken! I don't think that has anything to do with us," Omi quickly interjected with a warning glare at the brunette. "And anyway, isn't it a good thing that Ran and Yohji are getting on now?"

"I seem to remember being told to get my act together on precisely that subject," Ran added, glancing away to check on the water and thereby missing Ken's face contort in annoyance.

Turning away from the redhead to glare at the petit blond sitting across from him, Ken began to wave his hands around to further illustrate his point. "Just that wouldn't be a problem, but come on Omi! Even you should have noticed that's not all." Ken's voice was steadily growing in volume, no doubt due in part to his frustration. "Then our mighty leader gets Manx to activate the two of us despite the fact that we now have a civilian in the house.  What were you thinking?"

"I'm sure Ran thought through all the circumstances involved, Ken…"

The last vestiges of Ken's patience snapped and he slammed his hands down on the table as he pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. "Shut up Omi! Ran's behaviour is putting us all in danger." Marching over to where the pale man rested against the sideboard, Ken narrowed his eyes to match the glare facing him. "I know we should all be glad that you're trying to get over the emotional cripple thing, but your timing stinks as does your choice in targets. How do you expect us to hide this from him? We're fucking assassins! How do you think he's going to take the news?" 

"Well it would have been amusing to see you all pretend to be moonlighting as rentboys, but I'd pretty much figured it out already."

Three pairs of eyes turned to confront the tall blond leaning by the entrance to the kitchen, two wide and alarmed, one as cool and unreadable as ever. Yohji smirked at the effect for a moment, before taking a seat at the table. "Good morning all." The blond indulged in a long slow stretch before winking at the two younger men. "Relax you two, it appears I'm not exactly a civilian either. You'll have to get Ran to fill you in on the details though, it's still pretty much blank to me."

Refusing to acknowledge the questioning looks directed at him, Ran poured the boiling water into the teapot and carried it over to the table as he waited for the infusion to brew. Pausing to fetch two mugs from the side, the redhead poured tea into the mugs and passed one over the blond.  Then finally he looked up at Omi and Ken, who was once again approaching meltdown. "Do you honestly think Manx would have allowed some random amnesia patient to stay with three Kritiker agents? I was supposed to watch Yohji for any returning memories of his past."

"And just what sort of a past would that be?" Ken demanded, looking between the two older men as he returned to his seat at the table.

Yohji forced a grin to his face and sipped at his tea. "I would have thought that was fairly obvious Ken, I killed people as an assassin. Not that I actually remember any of that. No doubt Kritiker want to make sure I don't suddenly recall I'm working for the enemy and go running off to my past acquaintances. So Ran here was playing watchdog."

"But things are more complicated now," Omi guessed. "Or you wouldn't be bothering to tell us this. Are your previous employers trying to get you back, Yohji?"

"More than that, kiddo. It appears I'm hot property in the killing underworld and there's more than one group out to get hold of me pretty much any way they can." Yohji glanced over at the silent redhead and ran a hand absently through his blond hair. "Plus according to Ran, Kritiker want to lock me up in a lab somewhere and brainwash me into working for them. And while all this attention is very flattering, I'd probably feel more reassured about the whole thing if I could remember some of these highly sought after fighting abilities."

Ken frowned. "So we're effectively doubling up as protection for you from these other groups." The young athlete glanced at Ran. "But I still have the feeling that Kritiker aren't exactly one hundred percent behind this."

Fujimiya took a sip of his tea. "That's because they're not. In fact, they want Kudoh to be handed over to them immediately so they can either recruit or brainwash him." Another sip of tea gave the others a moment to process the information before the redhead continued. "But that course of action is unacceptable. Kudoh stays here, end of story. I am not going to allow anyone to force him back into that lifestyle." Having clearly said all he was willing to say on the subject, Ran rose smoothly to his feet and left the kitchen to head back towards his room.

Yohji offered a grin to the two semi-shocked young men. "He's not exactly someone you consider arguing with, is he?"

Omi shook his head slowly with a small frown. "That's not all, Yohji. Normally Ran isn't the sort of person who considers arguing in the first place. Disobeying orders like this is so unlike him."

"Yeah, what did you do to him Yohji?" Ken added. 

Yohji shrugged. "Like I keep saying, I guess it's just my innate charm that wins people over."

Omi sniggered. "Either that or you're spiking the water."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"I trust you've thought over the very generous offer we left you with, my dear Manx-san." The smooth, clipped voice caught the redheaded woman completely by surprise and she spun in her chair to face the figures that had appeared unnoticed within her office in the few moments she had turned her back. Obviously anticipating her surprise, the elder of the two men smiled with a touch of smugness. As before neither the teenager with the ridiculous hair or the younger man with the vast amounts of clothes showed any real interest in the discourse; the man was staring vacantly into space, his arms wrapped tightly around his thin frame while the girl stared intently at something within her cupped hands.

"Do you honestly expect me to tell you Void's location?" Manx asked archly, allowing a cold smile to spread across her face. "You have a rather high opinion of your abilities to threaten me."

The English man looked affronted. "Threaten? Us? We never did anything of the kind. There is no need for a demonstration of power when we are clearly already the ones possessing it." Narrowing his eyes slightly, the man fixed a glare on Manx that made the Kritiker agent almost lean back in her chair. Almost. And had she not been used to receiving glares of a far superior quality from Void's current self-appointed protector, she might even have felt a touch intimidated. Her lack of response was noted and not considered favourable. "We came for information. If you are not prepared to tell us what we wish willingly, we shall simply have to use another method."

Manx leaned forward in her seat, using the movement to cover the motion of her arm reaching for the small handgun kept under the desk. "So you'll torture the information out of me? Our agents are not as weak as you seem to believe. You'll be found and killed before you get so much as my real name."

A few brisk steps forward carried the group's leader within arm's reach of Manx. "Again, not what I had in mind. I find the simplest techniques tend to work the best, wouldn't you agree?" In a swift motion he clasped a hand on Manx's head. The woman's eyes rolled upwards and she slumped forward onto her desk.

Mika glanced at the unconscious woman before turning her attention back to the sand running through her hands. "What was with all that conversation? You should have just done that to start with and saved us all time."

Odin ruffled the assortment of coloured highlights with an indulgent smile. "With you around, time is hardly an issue. Now we simply need to confirm Void's fighting abilities."

"No way," Legion suddenly spoke up sharply. "You are _not_ taking me into the morgue. I'm not doing it."

Odin glared at the man in annoyance. "I suggest you stop being so pathetic or I'll lock you in there." Turning, he made his way over to the door and looked back at his companions. "We are leaving now."

Mika smiled at Legion sympathetically as they fell into step behind the Hunt leader. "It won't be for long," she reassured the man. "It'll be over before you know it."

Legion shook his head stubbornly and pulled his coat a little tighter around him. "Like hell. They _cling_. They always fucking cling."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The golden brown sugar poured into the coffee in steady stream. With a final sharp shake of the paper package, Gil-Martin laid it to one side and concentrated on grinding the largest of the granules against the edge of the cup while he slowly looked at the other two Esset members. Laying his teaspoon pointedly upon the china saucer, he took a small sip of the dark liquid before sighing. "I think perhaps we've let Schwarz be a touch too independent as of late. They regard themselves as a separate entity to us."

Melmoth snorted and lit a cigar, despite the clear fact that the three men were sat in a non-smoking restaurant. "Small wonder with Schuldig in the group. He's been an obvious influence on Naoe and even Crawford seems less focused."

"Oracle is just irritated by the limits of his power," Janus explained as he drank his own coffee. "He wishes to keep Schwarz together, but is thwarted by the blanks in his visions.  Obviously he was previously unaware of just how restricted his talent was, no doubt dismissing it as due to Void's presence."

"Almost makes one wonder why the man is so keen to regain Void," Gil-Martin commented absently. "You'd think he'd welcome the increased accuracy in his visions."

Janus smiled slightly and shook his head. "I doubt it. It removes the excuse of not having predicted that particular turn of events that results in failure. With his greater accuracy, Crawford feels greater responsibility to use his ability to protect his team." The blind man sniffed in distain and drained his cup. "All of which is completely useless when his desired outcome is at odds with the Delphic Unit. Still, it's always amusing to watch them try and rail against it. Reminds me of those Shakespearean tragedies we used to study. Or maybe Webster, he was a good deal more violent."

"Moving on from the relative merits of the Jacobean theatre to the events at hand," Melmoth cut in. "With Schwarz's increased feelings of independence, we now appear to have three separate groups after Void; Odin's miserable little band of pissants, Schwarz and the unknown group led by that redheaded swordsman." He paused for a moment. "What do you propose we do about them?"

Gil-Martin shrugged. "Let them fight it out amongst themselves until there's only one group left. Then sweep in and take what we came for."

"And in the meantime enjoy the view of the carnage," Janus added with another smile.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"He's not coming anymore."

Schuldig glanced up from his study of the sakura petals to take in the solemn expression of the girl he sat beside. "What was that, Schätzchen?"

Aya looked down at the redhead beside her and smiled painfully. "Ran. He's not coming to see me anymore. He's probably forgotten all about me and decided to get on with his life." Something in her expression turned bitter and she turned back to face the lake the pair were sat beside. "It's not fair, at least I had a life before this. What did he ever do? Work in that stupid restaurant and read books."

Placing a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder, Schuldig suppressed a smirk of triumph. Crawford wasn't going to be able to bitch about this little assignment. Quickly schooling his expression back into one of thoughtful sympathy, Schuldig tightened his grip for a moment. "I know it's hard for you, Aya, but you need to understand that you're not alone anymore. There is no reason for you to rely on your brother like this."

Aya turned on the man in surprise, a vague frown creasing her forehead. "What do you mean?" The young girl sighed despondently and gestured vaguely to the fabricated setting. "It's not exactly crowded in here and unlike my brother I do need the company of other people. So either I have to get more people to visit, which isn't likely in my current condition, or I leave here which isn't something I've had the most success with in recent years."

Schuldig allowed a slow grin to spread across his face. "Well as it happens, I can help you there." 

"Excuse me?"

The German stretched his arms above his head lazily, listening to the joints crack. "If you want me to, I can help draw you out of your mind. Bring you back to the waking world." He winked at her dumbfounded expression. "What can I say, Schätzchen? You're the kid sister I never had, you're making me a soft touch."

Aya scoffed slightly, but her eyes betrayed her hope. "You could do that? Help me to wake up and get on with my life?"

Schuldig shrugged and nodded. "Sure. Waking up is the easy part though; the difficult bit is what happens next. The world out there has changed around you, Aya. People have changed, moved on, whatever.  It's never going to be the same as when you left, after all, you don't have anything to return to. Your home and family are gone except for a brother who seems to be lacking in his fraternal duties. Can you cope with that?"

Aya blinked and turned to study the sakura-scattered ground as she bit her lip. Tilting her head slightly, she glanced at Schuldig from the corner of her eyes. "I'll still have you though, Sascha? You'll help me find a place to stay and stuff, won't you?"

Mission accomplished. "It would be my pleasure, Schätzchen. I'll have to sort some things out on this end, but I don't see any of my flatmates objecting. One of us left a while ago and we were looking for someone to make up numbers. And sweetheart, I think you'll fit the bill perfectly."

The scene swirled and faded. Schuldig opened his eyes to be confronted with Crawford's usual impassive expression. Smirking at the American, the telepath leaned back in his chair and yawned, running his fingers absently through his hair. "She took the bait, Bradley-boy. We can pick her up as and when."

Crawford nodded slightly. "Good, I'll release Farfarello and we can leave immediately. I don't know why, but I have the sense that the quicker we act the better. Especially with Odin's odious little band of fools skulking around." Leaving the room with his usual air of efficiency, the Oracle gave Schuldig little option save to get up and follow the dark-haired man.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Stripping the last of the thorns off of the roses, Ran began to place the flowers carefully in the arrangement on the bench in front of him. Frowning in concentration as he moved the blooms to his satisfaction, he didn't notice the creeping shadow until he felt warm breath tickling the back of his neck moments before a pair of arms circled around his waist. Whirling in surprise, Ran struck out blindly.

"Is that how you give all your admirers flowers, or am I just special?" Yohji's eyes glinted with amusement behind the sunglasses as he looked down to where the rose was jabbed directly at his heart, the stem bent and broken from the force and the crushed petals slowly slipping down the tight mesh of the blond's shirt. Grinning wildly at the expression on the redhead's face, Yohji released the smaller man only to flick at his eartails as the blond walked over to the other side of the table.

Ran narrowed his eyes, but there was no real force behind the glare. "Hn."

"With words as eloquent as that, it's no wonder you have to rely on flowers to convey your affections," Yohji continued, not in the least bit bothered by Ran's behaviour. "Anyway, I figured I'd head on over to the hospital this afternoon and let Manx do another batch of her tests on me to show willing. No sense in giving the woman an excuse to drag me off by claiming I'm a no-show." A distinct leer crossed Yohji's face as he leaned in closer to Ran. "Tell me, just what is it about me that has redheads so desperate to rip my clothes off?"

"Morbid curiosity," Ran muttered as he began to clear away the trimmings and other assorted mess that had accumulated. "If you're heading to the hospital, I'll come too. Someone needs to keep an eye on you."

"And we all know that's your favourite hobby," Yohji laughed. "Still it'll be good to have you come along. With any luck, your glaring act will scare the doctors into submission and I'll escape in one piece."

Glancing up at the clock, Ran noted that it was five minutes into Ken's shift, moments before the man in question came rushing into the shop. "Sorry, I'm late. I was playing football with some of the kids in the neighbourhood and we lost track of time." His breathless apology was cut short with a brief wave of Ran's hand.

"Fine. Just take over for now, Omi should be along shortly. Yohji and I have to visit the hospital. We should be back in around two hours." Ran barely paused to glance at Ken as the redhead made his way to where Yohji lounged by the front door, pulling the as yet unlit cigarette from the blond's mouth as he passed. "Don't smoke in the shop."

"I wasn't in the shop! I was in the doorway!"

"Which was open and therefore letting your smoke into the shop."

"Only because you were walking through it! Hey, where are you putting those hands … we're in public you know. Ran! Not the entire pack, give them back right now!"

Ken listened to the fading voices before shaking his head in puzzlement. Maybe Omi's comment about there being something in the water wasn't so far-fetched after all.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The accident and emergency waiting area was crammed with people whose ailments seemed to range from broken bones to the flu. The extremely thin young man who stood shivering by the coffee machine blended right in, despite the fact that he appeared to have walked in from the artic while everyone else was dressed for the mild spring weather. The young girl beside him passed him a cup of steaming tea. "Your lips are about as blue as my hair," she informed him wryly. "You look like you've been sitting in a meat locker for the past week."

A relatively sour glance was shot back at her as Legion cupped his hands around the drink, allowing the warmth the seep through his thick gloves for a moment before sipping at it. "Not that far from the truth. What is that Sassanach bastard up to now?"

Mika shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. I've no idea what we're still doing here. Probably following one of his hunches, possibly just waiting for Pan to get his arse in gear and pick us up."

The pale man scowled into his plastic beaker of hot liquid. "I have a really bad feeling about this. Esset seem fucking relaxed about the whole thing. I'd have thought the Delphic Unit would have the place crawling with Weavers by now."

"And what would the point of that be, when the man could slip through any net those blind idiots try to form?" Odin appeared silently beside the pair, causing Legion to start in surprise and spill some of his drink onto his hand. Ignoring the man's hiss of pain, Odin regarded the others with a calm gaze. "We need to leave now. Pan is putting the plan into action so I strongly advise getting some distance between us and this building."

Mika sighed and Legion tossed the half empty cup behind him, not caring where it landed. The three filed out of the bustling ward unnoticed amongst the steady stream of patients.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Schuldig glanced into the rear-view mirror, studying the silent figure hunched in the backseat. "Awfully quiet today, Farfie. Not got any thoughts for us?"

Taking his eyes briefly off the road, Crawford scowled at the telepath. "Don't encourage him." Even as he said the words, he knew it was useless. The German had his stubborn expression on and if he wasn't winding up Berserker, he'd only be turning his irritating attentions on Oracle himself.

The redhead pulled a face at the American before turning back to face the Irishman directly. "Come on Farf, I'm sure you've got some great words of wisdom to share. Going to enlighten us all with some new method of hurting God?"

Slowly, Farfarello turned a pale yellow eye on the German who began to fidget under the unblinking gaze. Without any visible expression or emotion the Irishman began to quote:

"When an innocent man suddenly dies, God laughs.

God gave the world to the wicked.

He made all the judges blind,

And if God didn't do it, who did?

If I smile and try to forget my pain,

All my suffering comes back to haunt me;

I know that God does hold me guilty.

Since I am guilty, why should I bother?

No soap can wash away my sins."

There was a pause before Schuldig glared and turned back to face the front. "Since when did you preach the Bible?" he muttered. The white-haired man smiled faintly and turned his head to face out of the window. The rest of the trip passed in silence. Crawford tried hard not to smirk.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Damn that man to the bottom layer of hell!" Ran snarled as he scrubbed angrily at his previously spotless shirt. Leaning against the sink next to him, Yohji watched on in vague amusement. Looking up into the mirror, the redhead caught the other man's expression and scowled even harder. "Don't even think of smirking. This whole thing is your fault."

Yohji blinked in surprise and held up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, not guilty Ran. How was I supposed to know that guy was going to plough through a puddle – the only one in the whole of Tokyo it seems, just as you were walking past? If I'd known, I'd have switched sides or something." The blond paused to lean forwards and examine the other man's shirt. "And just how did he manage to get mud in there? We're in the middle of the city, there's nothing but concrete."

"Do I look like I know, Kudoh?" With a frustrated sigh, the redhead began to pull the shirt off. "This is no good. Lend me your sweater. I can't wear this any more."

Swallowing hard at the sudden expanse of lean and muscled back on view, Yohji struggled for a moment to find his voice. "What? Why?"

Ran spun to face Yohji, resting the hand that clutched the shirt against the sink rim. "I can't exactly go into the hospital like this, can I?" he declared, gesturing at his chest angrily. "So lend me your sweater, it's not doing anything other than sitting around your waist anyway."

Yohji wasn't really sure how to tell Fujimiya that he had no intention of removing the aforementioned article as long as it was all that hid his growing response to the redhead's semi-nudity. Unfortunately, while his brain was occupied with the joint tasks of getting himself under control and simultaneously constructing an appropriate excuse, Ran had breached the small distance between the pair of them and was even now reaching his long, pale fingers out to snag the sweater. Startled Yohji jerked back, grabbing the other man's hands in surprise. "Hey!"

Ran looked up at him with barely concealed exasperation. "What is it? Just give me the damn sweater." With a sudden movement, Ran jerked his hands free and deftly pulled the sweater away from Yohji. Without a glance at the blond, the smaller man turned his back on his partner as he pulled the soft knit over his head and quickly used his hands to smooth his hair. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" He turned back and looked at Yohji in faint puzzlement. "Well? Shouldn't we be going?"

Yohji studied the man in front of him and smiled. "That sweater is far too big for you," he commented as he tugged at one side of the neckline that was threatening to slip over Ran's shoulder. As his fingers brushed against the swordsman's skin, Yohji noticed the small shiver that passed through Ran.

Trying to cover his reaction to Yohji's touch, Ran frowned slightly and tugged at the sweater. "It's not that bad. And anyway, it's only until we get back to the Koneko."

Yohji's grin spread as he traced his fingers along that visible stretch of collarbone, pleased to notice that he was able to produce much the same effects in Ran as the redhead caused on him. "I'm not saying it looks bad, Ran. Far from it." Leaning forwards, Yohji let his fingers slowly drift up that smooth column of the redhead's neck to brush along his jawbone as he brought his face closer to Ran's. Crossing that tiny distance, Yohji allowed his lips to brush across Fujimiya's for an instant before pulling back. He could have sworn he heard the man whimper, but didn't let any sign of having heard show on his face. "But you're right. We should go."

The glare he got from Fujimiya was priceless.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The pick-up went without a hitch. Thanks to Schuldig's abilities and Crawford's detached demeanour that projected the essence of a medical professional, no one so much as glanced at the trio as they wheeled the sleeping girl out of the hospital. Leaving Schuldig to get the girl safely settled in the car, Crawford leaned against the side of the vehicle and studied the various people as they passed through the entrance doors. Then he squinted slightly and straightened. "Schuldig."

The German moved to stand next to Crawford. "What?"

"Are you scanning the crowds?"

Puzzled, the telepath yanked a hand through his hair, dislodging his sunglasses. "Just in the general sense. You seem to dislike it when I eavesdrop on every boring arsehole's mental anguish between here and Kyoto. But just to disprove any claims of slackness, I'll go through the sheep with a fine toothed comb."

"Do it," Crawford muttered, turning his head slightly to try and recapture that glimpse of rainbow-coloured hair.

With a long-suffering sigh, Schuldig cast his mind back out over the crowds. There was a flicker of something colder than ice on the edge of his perception, but it was gone quickly. The German frowned and tried to locate that particular mind again, but had no luck. Pulling his attention back to Crawford's expectant face, Schuldig shrugged. "I caught a snatch of something, but it was gone before I could really be sure who it was. They either moved out of range or were shielded by another telepath."

Crawford spun and briskly opened the car door. "As I thought. We are leaving. Now."

Schuldig glared down at the man as he moved to take the backseat next to Aya. "Well I wasn't standing around for my health."

Crawford matched the stare in the mirror of the car. "You seem to have forgotten Farfarello. I suggest you get him here very rapidly."

Schuldig clambered out of the car again, huffing in indignation. "Who lit a fuse under your arse, Bradley?"

"No one. Yet."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

With no cigarettes on hand to distract his thoughts, Yohji found his attention drifting once again to the movement of his sweater's hem as it grazed against Ran's hips. The smooth swinging motion from the slightly overlarge garment caused the briefest flash of soft-looking skin and virtually forced the eyes to linger in the nearby area and take in the view of one particularly well-shaped arse. And the redhead continued to stroll along completely oblivious to the chaos he was leaving in his wake. With a muttered curse, Yohji pushed his hands deep into his pockets and sped up his pace to draw alongside Ran and remove that temptation from his gaze. "Tell me again why we couldn't have taken the car?"

"It's not far, parking's a bitch and I figured it would serve as a useful reminder as to why you shouldn't smoke."

Yohji rolled his eyes before a leer spread across his face. He leaned in towards the smaller man and let his eyes trail over the redhead's body in a suggestive manner. "But then what would I do with my hands all day?"

There was the faintest suggestion of a blush under that creamy, pale skin. "How about work?" Ran offered tartly.

Yohji grinned in amusement and let his gaze drift over the heavy traffic that sped past him. His eyes found themselves drawn to one approaching car, a powerful and sleek model but still virtually indistinguishable from the million other executive cars that filled the city streets. It seemed to slow down for a moment as it passed, giving Yohji the briefest glimpse of four figures. One of the windows in the back was open, causing the passenger's long strands of pure orange hair to whip around his face. A frown crossed Yohji's face and he unconsciously slowed his steps before coming to a stop, turning to keep the vehicle in view.

Ahead of him, Ran noticed his sudden halt and turned around, raising an eyebrow. "Is something wrong? We're nearly there, it's just in on the left."

Yohji shook his head, trying to dislodge the sudden feelings of unease that flowed through him. "It's nothing. Just thought I saw something for a minute." He turned and took a couple of steps towards Ran when the explosion rang out.

It sounded fairly muffled at first, hitting the chest in an invisible slap of air before growing in volume as secondary bangs added to the cacophony. Then came the waves of heat, carrying the plumes of smoke and scent of burning flesh. The smoke became heavier as fragments of the collapsing building combined with the noxious fumes, forced airborne by the initial force and only now beginning to reach the two men.

Yohji grabbed Ran's arm, noting how the man's face had completely drained of all colour. At the contact, the redhead whirled to stare at the blond with violet eyes full of too many emotions for Yohji to read. "The hospital," Ran mouthed at the blond, he may have actually spoken the words but Yohji could only hear the crackling roar of flames and groaning steel girders. The redhead made as if to run towards the hospital, the source of all that fire and smoke, but Yohji pulled him back. Lashing out at the blond, Ran tried to pull free, his expression panicked and almost child-like in its fear. Yohji refused to budge, drawing the other man into a tight grip. He stood with his arms wrapped tightly around the trembling redhead until the flashing lights and wail of sirens pierced the fog of his mind.

TBC


	10. Chapter Ten

Force of Habit: Chapter 10

Author's Note: Apologies for the abrupt ending of the last part but I suffer from the literary equivalent of an itchy trigger finger and having gone so long without casualties was making me somewhat tense. Which helped a little but still will probably not please those members of the Schuldig Schutz Bund who have been so vocal in their reviews. And as much as I love the feedback, sorry: if wishes were fishes I'd be eating sushi.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

//Initial reports from the scene are as yet unconfirmed, but the blast appears to be the result of a deliberately planted explosive attack. Despite this, no terrorist groups have stepped forward to claim responsibility for the attack which has shattered the tranquillity of this area of Tokyo and left hundreds dead with many more injured. Once again, reporting from the scene of the hospital bomb-//

Mika snorted in disgust and switched the television off. "Well?" she demanded. "Think we pissed them off enough?"

From the other side of the room, Odin raised his eyes from the stack of papers he was currently looking through to meet the teenager's gaze for a few moments. Then he returned the focus of his attention to the printed words before him. "If that had been the sole purpose of the exercise, simple vandalism would have sufficed."

Footsteps indicated that Legion had finally emerged from his room in order to catch the end of Odin's words. Hunching into his usual huddle on the spare chair in the room, he paused to glower at the Hunt leader before tucking most of his face beneath his arms. "Vandalism, aye that's fucking right. We could have just blown the bloody doors off."

Odin regarded Legion with poorly disguised irritation, obviously about to respond in a scathing manner, when Pan quickly cut in. "So, mes amis, what is our next step? Do we attempt to reopen a link with Yue, or bide our time until we know how the dust settles?"

Successfully diverted from the sullen Scot, Odin gave the words careful consideration. "Any overt move on our part to obtain Yue would certainly not be a wise idea right now. His protectors will be on their guard and expecting some sort of abduction attempt. However it would be equally unadvisable to simply sit back and allow them to recover their equilibrium. I think some subconscious reconnaissance may be our most favourable option at this point in time."

"One problem with that," Pan cautioned with a frown. "Arachne's been a very dominant presence over the past few weeks, hence our failure to continue with the dreamlinks. We have no way of avoiding getting snared in her little webs as long as she's searching for us."

"Or would have, if the explosion didn't have Arachne expanding all her energy on tracking Yue. He was due in the hospital shortly before it exploded and of course, being resistant to the usual tracking methods, the only way to establish his whereabouts will be through the dispatch of Weavers. Hence Arachne will have already used much of her power leaving the way clear for us to open a link with Verdandi." Odin curled one corner of his mouth up in what could have been a smirk. "In addition, Verdandi should have regained some strength during her absence."

"Enough strength to ward off another attempt at the Void persona to re-establish control?" Legion asked acidly. "The problem with dealing on such a subconscious level is you have no way of controlling the surroundings. Should the remnants of what was essentially Void be successful in regaining control, you'll have lost your chance at Yue permanently."

"But Yue's not Void!" Mika protested loudly. "Void was something he was forced to be; now that Yue's back, Void has no reason to re-emerge." The teenager darted anxious eyes about the room before landing on Pan. "Void's gone," she stated again, but the quaver in her voice revealed her words to be the question they really were.

Sighing, Pan walked over to Mika and dropped onto the seat next to her. "It's not that simple ma chere," he explained. "Whether Void was a genuine part of Yue or not, it was the persona he was for almost eleven years. That's bound to leave its mark on the guy."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Yohji! We came as soon as we heard! Are you alright?" Omi's frantic voice managed to cut through the chaotic hum of the over-crowded medical ward. Looking up from his hard-won plastic seat, Yohji saw the familiar blond head with Ken not far behind and waved the pair over. Omi redoubled his efforts to fight his way through the thick crowd of people and eventually was able to stand in front of Yohji, breathing heavily from the effort.

Yohji looked at the young blond's flushed face and felt his lips twitch into a grin. "You look more in need of treatment than me," he observed wryly and gestured to the oxygen tank beside him. "Help yourself."

Omi pouted slightly and tried to look disapproving. "If you're supposed to be on oxygen, why aren't you wearing your mask?"

Yohji shrugged. "I figured with all the smoke that was already in my lungs, one little cigarette wouldn't make that much difference."

Omi's face went purple. "What?! You can't smoke! That's pure oxygen! You'll blow us all up!" Suddenly realising what he'd said, Omi stuttered to a halt, looking around nervously. "Uh … did I say that too loudly?"

Yohji waved a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about it. Ran took all my cigarettes anyway." The older blond ran a hand through his hair, wincing slightly as the numerous cuts and bruises made their presence known. "He's still in there. We both escaped the main blast with little more than a few cuts from shrapnel, but then the guy went charging off into the wreckage before I could stop him." Yohji's hand fluttered at his side for a moment or two in a fruitless hunt for a cigarette before clenching into a fist. "They sedated him in the end, it was the only way they could get him treated."

"Omi, you could have waited," Ken protested as he finally emerged from the scrum to join his two housemates. "How did you manage to get through all those people so easily anyway?"

Omi turned to face the dark-haired man, opening his blue eyes wide. "How could you say no to a face like this?" he exclaimed, before dropping back to a more serious expression. "Yohji's okay, but they had to sedate Ran."

Ken nodded gravely. "I'm not surprised though, he must be frantic about his sister. She hasn't been found yet, but they're saying the wreckage could take days to clear. I don't know how this is going to affect Ran's work back at the hospital, I mean, he did most of it so he could keep on his sister, right?" Ken's voice trailed off as he became aware of the twin stares he was receiving. "What?"

"Ran has a sister?" Omi asked slowly. He watched Ken nod with a carefully controlled expression. "And she was in the hospital when the blast went off?" Another nod answered him.

Yohji leaned forwards, taking over the questioning. "And you've known about this sister for a while?" Ken's nods began to take on a slightly hesitant edge, as though he had suddenly become aware of the fact that his news was not going down well. Ken's suspicions were confirmed when Yohji suddenly surged to his feet, causing the athlete to hastily back-pedal. "So why didn't you ever mention it to us?"

"I thought you both knew!" Ken protested. "And it's kind of personal, if Ran thought I was gossiping, he'd kill me."

Omi shook his head slightly. "Fair point, but _how_ did you of all people find out?"

Ken smiled nervously and ran a hand through his hair. "Remember when I pulled a hamstring playing football with the kids and needed Physio? The therapist was really friendly and we got talking. When I mentioned one of my housemates worked here, she recognised the name as also belonging to one of her patients. She never said what was wrong with her, but I looked her up before I left. Kid's in a coma and has been for a while, not likely to ever wake up. Kritiker are subsidising her care in return for Ran's work at the hospital."

Omi and Yohji exchanged looks. "Well that goes some of the way to explaining the guy's personality," Yohji muttered at last. "I can't believe he's managed to keep something like that from us."

"I can," Omi objected. "Ran doesn't exactly welcome personal conversations."

"Or even conversations in general," Ken added helpfully, obviously trying to win back favour. "Apart from you, Yohji, the most any of us can usually get out the guy is a one word answer or grunt."

A fresh flurry of activity broke up the conversation and the three men looked over to the entrance where several more stretchers were being unloaded. Craning his neck to see over the numerous milling patients and staff, Omi suddenly clutched at Ken's sleeve. "It's Birman! She's uninjured! Maybe she knows what's going on."

Yohji smiled at the glance Omi threw his way. "Hey, if you two want to check in with the boss then go ahead. I'm going to wait for Ran. He should be another hour or so, so I was going to kill time by heading across the road for a drink and a smoke." Shooing the two younger men in the direction of the newly arrived brunette, Yohji shot one last glance through the door at where Ran lay sleeping peacefully before heading out of the bustling chaos and back into the slightly more ordered streets of Tokyo.

Yohji wasn't overly familiar with this particular district, the only hospital he could remember visiting was currently smoke and ruins and so he didn't really feel like straying too far. Knowing Ran, the redhead was going to wake up ahead of schedule and would only be too happy to berate Yohji for wandering off to get drunk. Glancing down the street, Yohji noticed a cluster of tables and chairs arranged on the pavement in what had to be a outside seating area for a bar or restaurant of some kind. As good a place as any to wait for Fujimiya, and one that would also allow him to spot that distinctive head of hair should the man be in one of his more independent moods.

More or less decided, Yohji set off towards his goal, pausing only to duck into a newsagent on the way and pick up a packet of cigarettes. He immediately pulled one from the packet and sparked up, drawing a deep breath in that he released in a steady trail of wispy smoke. As Yohji approached the seating area, he saw that he was not the only one who had decided on a similar place to spend the pleasantly sunny afternoon. Crowds of people filled every table and inside the bar looked just as busy. Yohji sighed to himself and wandered inside the building in the hope that a spare seat might be hidden away in one of the corners.

It seemed he was in luck. As Yohji entered, his eyes spotted a vacant stool by the bar in the corner. A redheaded young man who didn't seem like he was expecting company, staring instead into a large glass of whisky, occupied the next seat along. Wanting to make sure, Yohji paused with a hand on the empty stool as he smiled at the man. "Is this seat taken?" 

The sound of Yohji's voice make the man start, causing some of the whisky to slop over the edge of the glass as he whirled to stare at Yohji with wide green eyes. "What?" His voice carried faint inflections of a foreign accent, but Yohji was unable to pin it down as the man spoke flawless Japanese.

Raising his hands in apology, Yohji leaned slightly back. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. It's just that there doesn't appear to be anywhere else to sit and I was wondering if this seat was already taken?"

Rapidly appearing to come to his senses, the redhead frowned and turned back to his drink. "Go ahead."

Yohji flashed a winning smile at the other man and slid onto the stool. "Thanks."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The sense of losing control of your own fate had always been a feeling that Schuldig hated, the thought of events around you spiralling towards an unknown future regardless of any actions taken to prevent it. In a certain sense, he'd known what his ultimate future would be from the moment Esset made his situation clear to him those eleven years ago. After all, hired killers, even ones with the additional party tricks he offered had a limited shelf-life in a very competitive market. Schuldig wasn't stupid; he was able to fit the pieces together. Esset were worried about their ability to keep him in line now that Void had been removed from the group dynamic. The Elders weren't in town to oversee the reclamation of Void; they were here to collect a telepath with an unhealthy disrespect for authority. And the vision of Schuldig's future involving an intimate meeting with a bullet from his ex-colleague provided those in charge with the perfect opportunity to ensure that one way or another Schuldig was out of their hair for good. Either dead or somewhere they could keep a better eye on him.

Eleven years ago the choice had seemed like a complete no-brainer. To choose between instant death or a delayed sentence wasn't something he'd been overly inclined to think through at such a tender age. Maybe things would have been different if he'd been an Oracle like Crawford and Asuka, he'd have known just what he was going to accomplish over the next decade. And he wouldn't have been so hasty to save his own neck at any price.

Past experience had proved that when the German's thoughts turned along this particular mien there was only one way to drown out those irritating voices at the back of his head: alcohol and lots of it. With an unconscious girl in the house and team members who were even more on edge than usual, it hadn't been much of a decision to head out and drink somewhere he could remain relatively uninterrupted. The bar he usually frequented was much busier than normal, due no doubt to the extra traffic at the hospital just up the road. It seemed Odin was now forgoing the more personal touch of assassination in favour of big brand consumer driven terrorism. Schuldig watched the crowds of hospital visitors as they killed time slowly, waiting for news of friends or loved ones that may have escaped the blast. He found the whole scene fairly dull and not one he was actually in any position to form opinions on. After all, terrorist, freedom fighter, assassin, it was all just semantics at the end of the day. You could play your little name games but the word at the root of it all would remain the same: killer.

And that was something Schuldig didn't want to dwell on at this particular point in time, having just escaped from the rest of Schwarz for that very same reason. His solution had been to make his way inside the bar, away from the sunshine and crowded terrace area. Sliding into an empty seat, Schuldig resolutely blocked the sounds of the people around him and focused instead on emptying the contents of his whisky glass. Had he been paying more attention, he might have heard the footsteps that signalled the approach of another drinker; then again, maybe not. Yue always had been able to creep up on him.

"Is this seat taken?"

The whisky in Schuldig's glass slopped over the side at the sound of that voice as his hand instinctively began to grab for his gun. Then he remembered that he'd left his weapon behind and in any case, Void had never been one for chit chat and other pleasantries. He'd always favoured the direct approach of killing you with as little fuss as possible. Nevertheless as Schuldig whirled to confront a pair of green eyes that sparkled with more life than he'd seen for over a decade, the German was sure a little of his shock remained visible to see. "What?" he heard himself ask distantly, all the while staring in amazement at the man beside him.

Obviously noticing Schuldig's surprised reaction, Yue leaned backwards and raised his hands to convey apology, his face twisting into a grimace of regret that the blond normally had to fall back on at least once a day at Rosenkreuz. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. It's just that there doesn't appear to be anywhere else to sit and I was wondering if this seat was already taken?"

A voice in the back of his head that sounded remarkably like Crawford's was sternly lecturing the German on what a stupid idea this was and how his only course of action was to report to Esset and Schwarz immediately. Frowning as he defiantly pushed the voice to the back of his head, Schuldig turned back to his drink. "Go ahead."

Yue's face broke into a smile that seemed strange on a face Schuldig was so used to seeing as an emotionless mask. The blond slid into the empty seat, allowing Schuldig the opportunity to notice that his hair was much shorter. It prompted the ghost of a smile to dart across the redhead's face, in both Yue and Void's incarnations, attempts to cut the blond strands had been tantamount to suicide. Unaware of the cause of his neighbour's amusement, Yue simply flashed another grin at the man. "Thanks."

The barman wandered over to collect Yue's order and Schuldig used the opportunity to get himself another shot of whisky. He suddenly had the feeling he was going to need it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Normally Yohji had enough sense to leave his fellow drinkers to their own maudlin thoughts, especially when he had enough problems of his own to be distracted by, but something about the guy he was sitting next to was driving him nuts. Of course, suffering as he was from his particular recollective disorder, the answer was unlikely to suddenly spring into his head. And it wasn't just him, Yohji was sure of it. The other man's reaction had been a little intense to be purely accounted to surprise. Glancing at the redhead once again from the corner of his eye, Yohji noticed he was being treated to much the same look. With his best disarming grin, Yohji turned to face the foreigner. "This is going to sound so unbelievably cliché, but please bear with me. Do I know you from somewhere?"

The redhead gulped back the last of his whisky and signalled to the barman for another. "You're right," he commented with that slight accent. "That does sound unbelievably cliché."

Yohji caught the faint hint of humour hidden beneath the seemingly dismissive words and let out a quiet laugh. "Yeah, it does, doesn't it? But believe it or not, I am a bona fide amnesiac. I have absolutely no memories of anything past a couple of months ago."

Something akin to a smirk hovered about the redhead's lips. "Seriously? Not a thing?"

Yohji laughed again and shook his head. "Nope. It's like something out of a really bad movie, isn't it? So you'd let me know if we'd met somewhere before, right?"

The other man paused and studied Yohji closely with cat green eyes. Finally he leaned back slightly and shook his head. "Sorry, you just reminded me of someone I used to know. It gave me a bit of a shock."

Yohji raised an eyebrow. "Oh? It isn't someone who disappeared recently by any chance?"

The redhead shook his head. "No. He died. Eleven years ago or thereabouts."

Yohji blushed and looked down into his drink only to find it empty. "Sorry," he offered, cringing at how it sounded. The redhead, however, didn't seem to mind, but simply shrugged and waved a hand before getting the pair another round of drinks. Smiling in thanks as he accepted his glass, Yohji offered the stranger his hand. "I'm Yohji, by the way."

The redhead closed his hand around Yohji's briefly before letting it drop. "Call me Schu."

The pair sipped at their drinks in companionable silence for a moment or two before Yohji noticed the redhead's expression darkening once again. Keen to prevent the other man from lapsing into a negative mindset, Yohji cleared his throat. "So what brings you out to this bar today? Are you waiting for someone at the hospital too?"

Visibly jolted from his train of thought, Schu glanced askance at Yohji for a moment before shaking his head. "No. I came here to think. It seems like I'm headed for one of those weighing up the course of your life moments and I was wondering how I'd fair in the introspection."

Yohji pulled a face as he ordered a couple of beers for the pair of them, aware that with his head buzzing as it currently was, more whisky would only earn him an almighty ear-bashing from Ran. "You don't sound too confident about a positive outcome."

His drinking companion gave a short laugh and took a hefty swig of beer. "A few months ago, I'd have been fine, none of these doubts and crap. But all of a sudden this choice I made in the past seems to have come back to haunt me." He paused and tilted his head to one side, watching the bottled drink as he swilled it idly in one hand. "At first, it just seemed like a really messed up stroke of luck, but now I can't seem to get away from reminders of this decision I made so fucking long ago."

Yohji raised an interested eyebrow and leaned back slightly, making himself more comfortable and ceasing to merely slump over the bar. "Oh? What kind of decision?"

"The usual one made by stupid, love-struck teenagers. I completely screwed over a friend because I was so besotted with someone who didn't give two shits about me." Schu's grip tightened visibly on the bottle and he angrily gulped at the alcohol. "And now I look at where I am and I wonder how I could ever have been so fucking blind. I didn't gain anything by it, and I lost the closest friend I ever had."

"Didn't you ever try to explain things to your friend? If you two were that close, wouldn't he have forgiven you?"

Schu paused in bringing the bottle to his lips and instead set the drink back onto the counter. "I never got the chance. He's the one who died eleven years ago and it was all my fault." The redhead looked across at Yohji with a crooked smile. "Lately, it seems that I just can't escape from reminders of what happened and I can't help but wonder how things would have been different if I'd trusted my friend like I should have done."

Yohji sipped thoughtfully at his own beer before shrugged. "Sure, I can understand you feeling guilty, but you can't gain anything from letting yourself get beaten up over something like this. You were young and you made a mistake. And anyway, how do you know that things would have turned out any better if you'd trusted your friend? It's not like we can see the future."

Something in Yohji's words must have struck Schu as amusing, for he began to laugh quietly to himself as he drained the last of his beer. "I wouldn't be so sure of that. Thanks for the drinks."

Yohji watched the other man rise to his feet and offered a warm smile. "Likewise. It was nice meeting you."

Schu nodded. "Be seeing you, Yue."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As he groggily returned to a relative state of wakefulness, Ran mused sourly to himself that he really was starting to get sick of hospitals. In fact that, along with waking up confused and stiff in beds belonging to blond brainwashing victims, Ran was really starting to miss his own room. It was quiet there, and peaceful. And Birman wasn't standing in the corner with a grim expression on her face.

Ran closed his eyes and levered himself up into a sitting position, using the change of posture as an excuse for the groan that slipped involuntarily past his lips. Birman didn't look convinced, but the brunette made her way over to his bedside with her usual air of efficiency. "You're finally awake, that's good. It appears we have a lot to discuss."

Cutting the woman off with the worst glare he was currently capable of, Ran deliberately ignored the large stack of papers held in the woman's hands. "Have you found Aya? Is she alive?"

Birman sighed and shook her head. "Searches are still on-going, but she is simply one of many that remain unaccounted for. The explosion virtually demolished the building, leaving us unable to reach the heavily secured basement levels from which Kritiker worked. As such, our intelligence at the moment has been reduced to virtually nil. In other words, we're flying blind."  Pausing to collect her thoughts, Birman suppressed her obvious frustration at the situation and flicked through her files. She came to a stop and cleared her throat. "Despite this, agents who were not present at the time of the blast have managed to assemble some information as to the cause of the disaster."

Ran raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Do tell just how Kritiker's defences were so easily breached."

"They used the fire systems. The phoney replacement company must have been the group behind this. They removed all alarms and extinguishers, replacing them with dummy models filled with explosives and other incendiary substances. What the blast didn't destroy would therefore be consumed by the resulting fires, which any survivors would be powerless to fight."

In spite of himself Ran shivered. "So who's behind it? Schwarz?"

Birman pursed her lips and shook her head briefly. "We don't think so. It's completely at odds with their usual M.O. In addition, Manx mentioned being approached by a third party who were keen to gain control of Void. Manx turned them down and we believe this could simply be a demonstration of their intent meant to force us into submission." A moment's hesitation passed before Birman continued. "Manx is still unaccounted for. We believe she was in the basement levels at the time, so while there is a good chance she may have survived the blast, we remain unable to get to her."

Ran nodded. "So what happens now? Kritiker is all but immobilised."

"Precisely. We are in a severely weakened state right now. We need to focus our energies on rebuilding what was lost and so we can't afford to remain open to any more attacks."

Ran's eyes narrowed as he suddenly saw where the woman was headed. "This has something to do with Kudoh."

Birman matched Ran's gaze with unblinking determination. "He cannot reside with us any longer. We no longer have the resources to contain and observe his powers. Should they suddenly manifest, we will all be powerless. In addition, keeping Void makes us a continued target for these groups. Give him up. Either to Schwarz or the others."

Ran's hands clenched into fists. "No," he hissed. "Why give in to terrorism? Kudoh stays with me."

Birman threw her hands into the air in frustration, sending her documents fluttering about her in a snowstorm of reports. "Are you going to continue with this course of action? I understand that with your sister missing, you need someone to transfer your affections onto, but there are better options than fucking Void!"

"He's Kudoh Yohji now, as you've reminded me on so many occasions."

"Regardless, he cannot stay with you any longer. The chance of another attack is too high. Kritiker will not survive this."

Ran swung himself out of the bed and marched past Birman, pausing only once his hand was on the doorknob. Not turning to look at the brunette, he spoke into the door, in a low but fierce voice. "Then you would do best to leave well alone. Because Weiss will."

With that, Ran left the room, his head churning with thoughts. Weiss were effectively on their own from here on in; that much was painfully clear. He no longer had to worry about surveillance and interference from above, but equally, he and the rest of his team would be unable to make use of Kritiker's facilities – both medical and the intelligence resources. But without Kritiker's extensive amounts of information, anticipating the next attack on Yohji would be that much harder. Ran thanked his own obsessive planning for ensuring that both Ken and Omi would be able to handle themselves in a fight.

Looking up, he saw the other two assassins obviously waiting for him in the corridor. Marching up to them, he brushed aside the questions after his health with an urgent question. "Where's Yohji?"

Ken blinked at his abrupt tone and waved a hand in the general direction of the exit. "Said he was going to grab a drink while he waited for you to wake up. I don't think he went far."

"Are you okay?" Omi cut in, his large blue eyes positively brimming with concern. "I heard they had to sedate you."

Ran ignored him, focusing instead on Ken's answer. Brushing past the pair, he made his way towards the exit without so much as a backward glance. "I'd better go and find him then. I'll meet you back at the Koneko."

"Oi! Where do you think you're going? Oi! Prick!" Ken's voice followed Ran out onto the street; fading only once the automatic doors had swept shut behind him. Pausing to adjust his eyes to the sunlight, which seemed a stark contrast to the insipid overhead lighting of the hospital, Ran surveyed the street in both directions. He doubted Yohji would have been willing to walk too far and risk losing valuable drinking time, so the odds were the blond had chosen some kind of bar nearby. There appeared to be a likely candidate a short way down the road, Ran noted and briskly set off in the direction of the open air seating area.

As he neared his destination, there was no sign of that familiar head of blond hair amongst any of the patrons sitting out on the pavement. Undeterred, Ran made his way inside, brushing past an exiting gaijin to virtually collide with Yohji. The blond had been in the process of storming out, his eyes fixed on a point over Ran's shoulder. Not seeing the redhead, Ran was almost knocked off his feet, and had to grab onto Yohji's arms to regain his balance. "Yohji, hey! What is it?"

Abruptly realising who was stood in front of him, shaking him, Yohji immediately assumed an apologetic expression. "Sorry Ran, I didn't see you there."

Satisfied that Kudoh wasn't going to go running off, Ran released the blond and crossed his arms over his chest as he glared at the blond. "That much is obvious." Tilting his head to the side, Ran softened his gaze as he noticed Yohji's distress. "What's wrong?"

Yohji paused then shook his head. "Nothing, just my mind playing tricks on me, I guess." Grinning, he threw an arm around Ran's shoulders and pulled the man into his side. "But don't think I don't appreciate the concern. So, what do you want to do now?"

Ran rolled his eyes. "Head home."

Yohji leered. "Oh really?"

"I could always just leave you here…"

"You wouldn't even dare. Ran? Hey, wait!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Schuldig paused in the doorway of the apartment, trying to work out what was different about the place. He was still there when Crawford walked past on his way to the kitchen. Seeing the German, Crawford stopped and looked at him impassively. "The elders left while you were out getting drunk. They are making contact with Arachne and should be back once they've confirmed the dispatch of Weavers."

Schuldig snorted as he shrugged out of his coat and made his way towards his room. "That explains it, and here I was thinking they changed the air freshener." Pausing in the hallway outside his room, Schuldig turned to find Crawford still standing in the same position, watching the German with an unreadable expression. With a roll of the eyes, Schwarz's Mastermind folded his arms and leaned against the wall. "Want something Bradley?"

There was a distinct flicker of annoyance in the American's expression, but it was quickly suppressed. "Aya is in your room, you'll have to use the couch."

"What? Why mine? Why not use Farfie's?"

"It would have taken too long to clean," Crawford answered.

Schuldig made a disgusted noise. "Fine. Whatever. _Bradley_." He was rewarded with that expression again and chose to push his small advantage. "What, Bradley? Something the matter, Bradley~"

"Stop calling me that!" After a few moments, Crawford spoke again into the surprised silence. "Do you really have to be so childish?"

Schuldig flipped his hair over his shoulder and smirked. "Got to get my kicks somehow, Crawford." With a glance at his firmly shut door, the German exhaled in a quiet sigh and began to pull his coat back on. "I'll be back late. Ring me if the precious needs waking."

Crawford's expression had morphed back into the unreadable one of earlier. "You're heading out again? You only just got back."

Schuldig glared at the man as he passed him on his way back to the door. "When did you become my mother, Crawford? I'm getting shot in a matter of days, let a dying man enjoy his last few hours."

To his surprise, Crawford reached out towards him. Expecting a blow, the German dodged backwards, but the American grabbed his arm instead. "Don't talk about it like it's so final," Crawford said in a low monotone. "It hasn't happened yet so we still have time to find another way."

With a sharp jerk, Schuldig pulled his arm free. "Think I don't know that, o mighty Oracle? It's just I don't think I feel much inclined to trust those Esset arseholes with saving my skin. They're glad for the chance to get rid of me and don't even think of insulting my intelligence by denying it."

Crawford stepped back; using his still extended arm to adjusted his glasses. "You're actually laying claim to having some intelligence now? Then I suggest you start using it."

Schuldig felt his features contort in a snarl and spun towards the door. "Whatever. Don't bother waiting up for me."

"I wasn't planning on it anyway."

Schuldig took care to slam the door extra hard on his way out.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The hotel foyer was starting to grate on Yohji's nerves. Obviously lacking detailed knowledge of his mind's previous quirks, the blond still felt that if pressed, his subconscious could have come up with something a little more interesting and less corporate than this place. Not bothering to take in the detail of his surroundings this time, Yohji marched his way over to the familiar group crowded around one of the coffee tables. "Don't you guys have homes to piss off to? This is getting monotonous."

There was a distinct look of amusement on the faces of the young teenager and the French man, but the oldest of the group seemed unimpressed. "This is for your own good. You didn't seem to appreciate it when we attempted a more direct method of communication."

Yohji crossed his arms and did his best impersonation of a pissed off Ran. "Communication I would have been fine with. It was the drugging and kidnapping that hit a nerve."

"Dommage," Pan muttered with a hint of what could have been sarcasm. Seeing the look, he was being shot by the leader of the group, the Frenchman turned his attention back to Yohji. "Sadly the issue is no longer a mere attempt to gain your co-operation. You're being hunted, mon ami."

Yohji made a noise in the back of his throat. "_Really_? I hadn't noticed."

"Wheesht with the sarcasm, Blondie," the heavily clothed man in the corner muttered. "We're no' the only ones after ye."

Yohji blinked as he tried to decipher some of the man's more incomprehensible words. "Excuse me?"

"They've sent the Weavers out to track you down," the young girl informed him with uncharacteristic graveness. "Pretty soon, this whole city will be swarming with them and we won't be able to help you."

Yohji looked from face to face, unable to get over the feeling that he was still missing something vital. "Weavers? What the fuck's a Weaver?"

The elder woman, the only one Yohji had no memory of meeting in real life made a gesture with her hands. Looking down, Yohji saw that a long piece of red string was woven around her fingers in the familiar style of Cat's Cradle. "The Delphic Unit see the threads, but only the Weavers can manipulate them into the desired pattern." Holding her hands out to the girl beside her, the woman watched as the teenager correctly threaded her fingers through the tangle and lifted the web into her own hands. The woman glanced back at Yohji. "They follow the orders of Arachne, and they have been sent to ensure your capture."

Allowing the woman to retrieve the twisted thread, the teenager turned to Yohji with an earnest expression. "Please, you have to come with us. We can help you. We can stop Void from coming back."

Yohji stepped away from the group. "I don't want to be having this conversation. Not now and certainly not with you." Turning, he frowned as he caught sight of a familiar figure standing in the corner of the lobby by the lifts. It was the redhead from the bar. He took a step in his direction, but a restraining hand closed about his wrist. He looked down into the troubled face of the girl.

"Don't leave the lobby, Yue, we can't control all aspects of this place. If you leave here, you'll be in danger."

Yohji gently pulled his wrist free. "I'll just have to take that chance."

He reached the lifts just as the doors nearest the redhead chimed and slid open. The man stepped inside without giving any indication that he was in the slightest bit aware of Yohji's presence. Curious, and not really having anything better to do; Yohji hurriedly stepped in after him. He wandered over to the far corner and watched the stranger turned to a bellboy and mutter "eleven" in a low voice.

The bellboy grinned, a disturbing sight on a face that lacked an eye. The remaining one glowed a malicious yellow colour as the doors slid closed once more. From somewhere on his uniform, the employee produced a large knife, with which he began to clean his fingernails. Aside from the soft scraping, the ride up was silent.

Yohji studied the slender redhead, trying to place the man in the fragments of memory he possessed. The long, orange hair was distinctive enough for Yohji to be reasonably confident that the man would stick in his memory. Unless he was a member of the assassin group he previously worked for. But then, wouldn't he have called him 'Void' not Yue?

The lights flicked up to the figure eleven. The lift lurched to a stop and the doors opened onto what seemed to be total blackness. Undaunted, the redhead stepped out of the lift and Yohji had little choice but to follow him. The air was cold and carried the damp smell that he had always associated with underground places. Yohji frowned at this, but pushed that fact to the back of his mind as he cautiously began to follow the other man.

For some reason, the lack of light made the man look a great deal younger. He walked with slow, yet purposeful steps; seemingly unaware of the uneven and slippery ground that Yohji stumbled on. Raising a hand to the wall in order to help him balance, Yohji recoiled when his hand brushed across wet stone, covered with patches of mud. Yohji glanced down the way he had come, but could see nothing but blackness. Of the elevator, there was no sign. Yohji sighed. "How do I get into these situations?" Then he cautiously glanced in the direction of the redhead.

The other man remained oblivious to his presence. His footsteps slowed and he turned to face an expanse of wall that appeared to have previously contained a door. Heavy boards were now slammed across it, preventing it from being used again. The redhead sank down into a seated position, his eyes trained fixedly on the collection of planks.

Yohji took a step towards it then paused. What he had originally taken for the sound of footfalls seemed to be actually the sound of someone banging on the wood. The hammering noise was clearly being made by a fist, and was slow and arrhythmic, a sign of fatigue from whoever was on the other side. As he came nearer he thought he could hear faint voices, further muffled by the thick layers of boards. It was impossible for Yohji to make out what was being said, but the redhead seemed to have unusually acute hearing, for he suddenly began to laugh – low and bitter at something that was murmured. The laugh silenced the noises on the other side of the planks and rang unpleasantly in Yohji's head. He raised his hands to his ears and squeezed his eyes shut.

The sound abated and Yohji cautiously opened his eyes again. The redhead was gone, as were the covering planks. Clearly revealed to the blond was an old, warped door with a heavily rusted handle. Wondering if the man had disappeared inside, Yohji stretched out a hand to the door.

It swung open moments before his hand made contact with an almost unnatural silence. Yohji stepped closer to the doorway and squinted into the gloomy exterior. There was a room on the other side, but without windows or any other form of light. The darkness was so thick as to almost have a tangible presence. Yohji stepped onto the threshold and stuck his head inside. His eyes gradually began to adjust to the dark and he could make out a figure standing over something on the far side of the room. It turned to face him, hearing his entrance, and despite the length of hair that swung with the motion, Yohji thought the figure was that of a man. The man began to make his way towards Yohji, who began to back away for reasons he didn't quite understand. Groping in the gloom, Yohji's hand searched desperately for the door handle as the figure came ever closer.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Yohji! How many times, I am not going to let you sleep off some drunken stupor on the couch. Especially not while you're lying on me!"

Blearily, Yohji opened his eyes at the sound of that acerbic voice and found himself inches away from Ran's flushed face. He appeared to have dozed off while watching TV and somehow contrived to fall onto the redhead in the course of his nap. Unable to resist the opportunity, Yohji caught Ran's lips in a quick kiss before pulling off. "Frustrated are we? It's okay Ran, I've still got plenty of energy."

The redhead scowled and stood up from the sofa. "Then you won't be needing any help in getting to your room. Goodnight, Yohji."

Struggling up after the redhead, Yohji's mood abruptly became more serious. "Wait a minute Ran, there's something I want to ask you."

Ran turned around, suspicion clear in his face. When he saw Yohji's expression, his features immediately became concerned. "Oh?" he asked softly. "What is it?"

Yohji swallowed and tried to think of the best way to phrase his thoughts. "I've been doing a lot of thinking. These guys that are after me, they were the ones behind the bomb blast, weren't they?"

Pain flickered across Ran's face at the mention of the incident, his mind no doubt turning to thoughts of his sister. With visible effort, the redhead pulled himself back together and focused on Yohji once more. "Very likely."

"And they're going to keep coming after me, aren't they?"

"Yes," Ran admitted with a touch of impatience. "What is your point, Yohji?"

Yohji took a deep breath. "I want you to help me train."

Violet eyes blinked at him in confusion. "What?"

Sighing, Yohji sank back down amongst the cushions of the sofa. "Look, I'm supposed to be this amazing fighter, but I can't remember any of it. If these guys attack again, I'm just going to be a dead weight around here. I don't want to be a burden on the rest of you. So help me get back in shape and remember some of this stuff."

Ran's face went completely blank as his eyes turned away from the blond. "No. Absolutely not."

"What?!" Yohji surged to his feet. "Why won't you let me help fight these people off?"

Ran turned back to face the blond, his eyes positively blazing. "I won't turn you into a killer."

"Are you mad? Or have you forgotten that I already am a killer?!" Yohji yelled.

Ran's hands curled into fists. "You don't have to be anymore," he bellowed back, his pale face flushing with emotion. "Don't you get it? You've got a second chance here. You can start over and make a different life for yourself!"

Yohji narrowed his eyes at the smaller man as he fought to get his temper back in check with little success. "Maybe I think keeping you alive is a little more important than my precious redemption! I'm not just going to sit back and watch these guys kill you, Ken and Omi when I could be helping!"

"No!" Ran screamed. "You can't. You start killing again and that's it. The blood doesn't just wash off, you know. I'm not going to willingly expose you to that."

Yohji threw his hands up in the air. "You already have! Take a look around, Ran. I'm still surrounded by death, the only difference is, I'm not the one doing the killing. I'm just watching everyone I know get hurt."

A long moment of silence stretched out between the two of them, then Ran spun on his heel and marched out of the room without another word. Yohji heard the man's footsteps and the sound of his door resolutely slamming shut. With a weary sigh, Yohji sagged onto the couch once more and dropped his head into his hands. "Nice going, Kudoh," he muttered. "Handled that real well."

From the direction of the kitchen came the sound of footsteps. "Yohji?"

With an inward groan, Yohji raised his head. "Hey, Ken. How much of that did you hear?"

"Most of it," the other man admitted. He paused and ran a hand distractedly through his hair. "Look, I appreciate your concern, but you really should leave the fighting up to us. Even with your past, you've been out of practise for quite a while now, there's no telling how out of shape your body's become."

Yohji grinned wryly and allowed his head to sag back. "Thanks Ken. You calling me fat?"

A snort and then more footsteps as the athlete came closer. "Don't be so vain. Anyway, despite that, I still think you need to be able to protect yourself. I mean what if they come for you when we're not around to fight them off? It's ridiculous for Ran to refuse to even teach you defence. That's why I'm giving you this."

Something heavy dropped into Yohji's lap. Looking down, the blond saw a gun. Yohji raised his eyes to meet Ken's. "Thanks man."

Ken waved a hand, his expression still serious. "You let Ran find that and my life won't be worth living. But remember, it's just in case."

Nodding, Yohji's hands stroked the cool metal. "Sure. Just in case."

TBC


	11. Chapter Eleven

Force of Habit: Chapter Eleven

Author's Note: If I were in the habit of giving these chapters names instead of numbers, I would probably have titled this one as 'Schuldig finally gets his' or possibly 'hindsight is 20:20'. In related news, this is the penultimate episode so also your final chance to sort out your theories on Yohji's mysterious power – all will be revealed in the finale. Oh yeah, and I finally overcame my innate repressed British nature. Yay me, but I also got a little carried away with dramatic devices towards the end so when you encounter two scenes that are inter-cut with each other, just try your best to follow the action. I'm sorry if it's hard, I appear to have seen too many trashy movies lately.

_"Wundert euch aber nur nicht, ihr Menschen, wenn es dann immer ganz anders kommt, als man gemeint hat. Die tückische Macht, die lauert, uns zu verderben, singt ihr auserkomes Opfer gern mit süssen Liedern und goldnen Märchen in den Schlaf. Dagegen pocht der rettende Himmelsbote oftmals scharf und erschreckend an unsere Tür."_

But do not then wonder if in the end, it all turns out quite differently than one had planned. The treacherous power that lurks, in wait to destroy us, enjoys singing its intended victims to sleep with sweet songs and golden fairy tales. Contrastingly, the messenger from Heaven who arrives to save us often knocks loudly and frighteningly at our door.        FOUQUÉ 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Idly swinging her legs over the edge of the balcony, Mika raised the egg timer until it was directly in front of her eyes. Flipping it over, the teenager watched the flow of sand with an unhappy expression. Gradually the flow of sand slowed, until coming to what seemed like a virtual halt, a glittering thread that stretched from one half of the shaped glass to the other. Her eyes narrowed further.

"You could practise all you wanted, ma petite, but not even you could reverse the flow of time."

Mika started somewhat guiltily, only managing to retain both egg timer and her balance by quick application of her reflexes. Pulling herself back onto the balcony properly, the Japanese teenager turned to glare at the Frenchman who stood behind her. "Are you deliberately trying to kill me?"

Pan laughed and moved closer to reach the girl's side. "Of course not. But I do like to keep you on your toes."

Mika snorted and draped herself over the metal railing that formed the safety guard on the ledge. Toying with the egg timer again, Mika blinked when it was gently removed from her grip.

"Something appears to be troubling you, ma petite." Pan smiled down at her sympathetically. "Would it not help to share this problem?"

With a sigh, Mika turned to regard her companion. "I just keep thinking about Yue and this new personality he has. Do you think he likes being Yohji more than he liked being Yue?"

Pan shrugged. "It's not my place to say, but I imagine both bring their own problems. Either must be better than Void, though. I can't imagine what it must have been like to experience so many years with no real control over one's actions."

Mika made a sound of agreement as her face took on a thoughtful cast. "That's another thing I've always wondered about. Why do you think they picked that name for him?"

The man beside her paused in thought, his grey eyes locked on a distant location. "From what I remember, it was taken from the words of Arachne just after the incident occurred. She said something along the lines of with what was effectively Yue erased from our lives, void was all that remained."

The teenager considered this before pulling a face. "That's not quite what I meant. I meant why 'Void'? Why give him an English name? Sascha wasn't named 'Guilty'; he was called 'Schuldig'. Why not use the Japanese word for 'Void'? Or even the German?" Mika paused for a moment, her face wrinkling in thought. "How would you translate 'Void' into German anyway?"

Pan shrugged. "I'm French, not German. And I suppose they just liked the sound of it in English or something inconsequential like that."

"I wonder," Mika muttered, mainly to herself. She visibly pulled herself away from that train of thought and grinned at the elder Hunt member. "Speaking of names, why don't I have a cool codename?"

Pan rolled his eyes. "We're not superheroes, we're assassins. Maybe we're waiting until you realise that and stop trying to name yourself after Stan Lee characters."

"Would Neil Gaiman characters be okay then? David Mack? Alan Moore?"

The Frenchman groaned and let his head fall forwards into his folded arms. Suddenly he raised his head and turned to face the stairwell with an intent expression. Mika noticed his changed demeanour and frowned. "What is it?"

The blond barely glanced at her. "Trouble. Legion's on his way."

Mika groaned, but there was no real annoyance in the gesture. "Why does this always happen on the nights I plan to stay in and watch TV?"

Pan looked as though he was about to respond when the door banged open to reveal Legion. The Scot glanced at the two Hunt members and then beckoned them over. "Come on. Arachne's sent her wee minions. Odin wants us to find the itsy bitsy spiders and wash the fuckers oot."

Pan rolled his eyes. "Such a charming way with words, mon ami."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The manner in which the Esset elders were inspecting their latest acquisition made Crawford glad that he'd managed to send Schuldig on sufficient tasks to keep him out of the way. Despite the fact that Schwarz still had a couple of days to prevent the German's apparent death, the three Europeans were already planning things without the inclusion of the redhead. It made Crawford suspicious that something of vital importance was being kept from him, but he refused to let himself dwell on those thoughts. Primarily because he had to focus on the more immediate task of dealing with three very powerful and dangerous men, but also because he was extremely uncomfortable about how worried these thoughts made him.

Dragging himself back to the present, Crawford was just in time to notice another of those smug, shared glances the elders were taking such delight in. With a distinct look of satisfaction on his features, Gil-Martin stepped forwards and nodded curtly at the American. "The girl should wake up within the next twenty-four hours. Once she is alert, you are to begin training her at your leisure. A search of her background reveals some knowledge of martial arts as well as an indication of what could be undeveloped empathic powers. As with Naoe, Fujimiya will be permitted to stay within this group provided you feel capable of teaching her the required discipline."

Janus moved up to flank the telepath. "I must admit; your powers of foresight have even impressed me."

Crawford frowned, choosing to ignore that somewhat cryptic statement in favour of a more disturbing aspect of Gil-Martin's speech. "You want me to train the girl? Surely Schuldig would be a more appropriate choice. Empathy has far more in common with telepathy than pre-cognition after all."

Another of the shared glances. When Gil-Martin spoke, the amusement in his voice was undeniable. "We thought you had foreseen that particular aspect judging by your actions. Schuldig will not be present to train the girl, therefore you must take on that role."

Crawford's features began to form what would have developed into a snarl, had he not caught himself in time. The gesture did not pass unnoticed however, and seemed to only add to the elders' amusement. Crawford felt his sense of disquiet increasing and silently cursed the redheaded German who was making him behave in such an uncharacteristic manner. "I feel obliged to point out that Void has not yet shot my colleague, therefore allowing the continuing possibility of altering that course of events."

Janus nodded his head. "That may be true, but regardless of the outcome of your encounter with Void, we feel that Schuldig's sense of rebellion and general uncontrollable attitude has passed the point which we consider acceptable. We plan for him to return to Germany with us, leaving behind his replacement; the girl Aya."

"Schuldig is still a useful asset to Schwarz," Crawford blurted out without even pausing to think over his words. "I've never found his attitude to endanger missions."

The elders paused to look amongst themselves once more and Crawford gritted his teeth at the increasingly annoying gesture. Finally, Melmoth turned to offer Crawford a false smile. "If that is indeed the case, then we will require some form of proof. Capturing Void and re-integrating him into Schwarz should be sufficient."

The American paused for a moment, sensing a trap but unable to identify it. Lacking any other option, he inclined his head curtly. "Done"

Any reply the elders may have deemed to give was lost as Schuldig chose that exact moment to barge into the apartment with his usual disregard for common courtesy. "Oi, o mighty leader, I'm back. Unless you have some more pointless tasks for me…" Finally coming within view of the elders, the German pulled to an abrupt halt. There was a moment's pause, then his usual smirk spread across his features and Schuldig lounged into a more relaxed stance against the wall. "Well that'll teach me not to scan the place before I enter. To what do we owe this pleasure? Planning my funeral arrangements? If I'm allowed a request, I always thought Green Day's 'Good Riddance' would be an amusing choice as I'm sent into the flames."

The elders pursed their lips as one and began to file out of the apartment. Melmoth lingered long enough to turn to Crawford and fix him with a chilling glare. "I suggest you keep our words in mind, Crawford. You have less than forty-eight hours."

No sooner had the door slammed shut than a furious Crawford rounded on the still lounging German. "You little idiot! What the hell do you think you're playing at?"

Blinking in surprise, Schuldig raised his hands. "Calm down, Crawford. I'm just enjoying my final few hours. Let a dying man have a little fun."

Crawford crossed the distance between them in a time that even the telepath's reflexes would have been hard pressed to beat. Slamming his hands onto the wall either side of Schuldig's still stunned face, Crawford leaned in close enough to feel the other man's breath on his skin. "Stop saying that," the American snarled. "You're not going to die. I'm not going to let that happen."

Schuldig opened his mouth as if to respond, but let it close again silently as his green eyes studied Crawford's face that was so near his own. The pair stood like that for what seemed like an eternity before Schuldig spoke cautiously, in a hesitant voice that was a million miles from his usual cocky tones. "You're really concerned for me, aren't you?" When Crawford made no response, the German slowly raised a hand to brush against the American's cheek. "Brad?"

Crawford jerked away as though stung, spinning on his heel and marching away from Schuldig. "Let me know when you're sufficiently out of your self-pity to start doing something about this situation. Until then just keep the hell away from me." As he stalked away from the German, Crawford fought hard to keep his thoughts and feelings under control. A thought had just occurred to him: a possible method of saving the other man's life. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A low whistle from Legion diverted Mika and Pan's attention away from the unfolding domestic drama in one of the apartment windows opposite. Moving over to where the Scot huddled, crouched against the concrete edging of the roof, both other Hunt members were instantly able to pick out the two black-clad gaijin in the street below. Mika made a small snort of disgust. "Haven't these guys ever heard of camouflage? I thought they were supposed to blend in."

Legion rolled his eyes. "It makes our job easier, don't complain."

Pan inspected the figures with an expression of distaste. "I've always disliked Weavers. Are we to get them to talk first or just dispose of them?"

A slow grin spread across the Scot's pale face. "Well, I was always told no' tae play with my food, but maybe just once willnae hurt."

Pan smirked. "In that case, Mika, would you care to do the honours? We'll need enough time to get down unnoticed."

Mika pulled a handful of sand from her pocket. "You planning on heading down direct or taking the scenic route?"

"Let's save the scenic route for when we have guests. Direct will do fine."

Both men reached out to grab onto the younger girl as she began to let the grains of sand flow through her fingers. Then all three simply stepped over the side of the building. The effect of Mika's concentration caused the air around them to feel thick and sluggish, making their downward drift more reminiscent of a parachute jump than the freefall it actually was. They hit the ground only metres behind their unknowing targets, automatically falling into a low crouch as Mika let the last of the sand drift from her grasp and time reassumed its normal course. 

The two targets may not have noticed the swift descent of the Hunt members, but they were fast enough in reacting to their landing. Spinning around to face the newcomers, both of the darkly dressed foreigners pulled guns from some concealed point on their persons. Without any hesitation, the duo opened fire.

The three Hunt members immediately broke apart and scattered to either side of the street. While Legion removed one of his gloves in order to place his bare hand upon the concrete road surface, Pan stretched out towards the two armed men. For a moment nothing seemed to be happening, then the grip of one of the men faltered, as he raised a hand to his head. Stumbling away from his colleague, the man shook his head rapidly, as if trying to clear it.

His companion noticed the problems being experienced by the other half of his group, but was soon forced to turn his attention back to the ground in front of him. A thick white mist was beginning to snake across the street, slowly rising into the air as the temperature visibly dropped. His breath formed small clouds with each exhalation and a crystalline covering of frost began to develop on his weapon. Glancing to the side where his cohort had staggered, the man realised that the mist had abruptly grown thicker, and now seemed to contain what could almost be described as moving shapes within it. No doubt suspecting the forms of being the Hunt members, the man brought his gun to bear on one of the nearest and fired off a shot.

The bullet passed through the mist, cutting a small tunnel of clear air that was rapidly once again swallowed up. This time however, the cloying white fog seemed more substantial than ever. The hairs on the back of the man's neck prickled and as he strained his ears to locate the three enemy assassins, he became aware of what sounded like voices, speaking just a fraction too quietly for him to hear. Unable to work out why his hands were suddenly shaking, the man was quite unprepared for the swift blow to the back of the neck that sent him tumbling to the ground. His still-confused companion followed moments later and Mika's voice was heard to ring out clearly. "Okay, Legion. That's enough."

Abruptly, the mist dispersed, revealing Mika and Pan standing over the two prostrate forms. Bending down, Mika gently brushed back the dark hair to reveal the nape of the neck and the kanji tattooed there. "Now here're a couple of spiders that won't be weaving any more webs."

Pulling his glove back on Legion snorted. "So, any particular suggestions?"

Pan nudged the man by him with his foot. "A certain amusing idea is developing. At the very least, even if they don't talk, it'll be fun to watch them panic."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yohji tried to concentrate on the film that was flickering on the television in front of him, but his eyes kept straying to the ceiling. Ran was still in his room, the man had barely come out over the past few days and the blond was pretty sure it wasn't going to change anytime soon. The redhead was taking his sister's death hard and seemed to feel that shutting the rest of the world out for a couple of days was somehow going to help matters. It was vaguely reminiscent of a while back when Yohji had first discovered his past hadn't been quite what he'd been led to believe. Of course, back then Ran had been fairly determined to try and patch things up, even at the risk of severely pissing Yohji off. Chewing on his lip, Yohji rose to his feet and began to make his way towards Ran's room. Thinking about it like that, it only seemed fair to try and repay the favour.

Foregoing the traditionally considered polite knock, Yohji chose to simply try the door. He was still surprised, however, to find it unlocked and eased it open, keeping alert for any protective counter-measures that could result in the loss of limbs or life. None were immediately forthcoming, so the blond stepped into the interior, shutting the door behind him.

Ran's room was immaculately neat and ordered, that much Yohji expected. What took him by surprise was the complete lack of any personal touches whatsoever. The room was without photos, pictures, anything that might offer some suggestion as to the occupant's personality. The layout might be tasteful and worthy of an interior-decorating magazine, but despite that the room felt completely barren. Yohji felt an inexplicable surge of anger at the thought of Ran spending so much time in this place alone.

The redhead in question was sat on the window ledge, absorbed in reading a book with an anonymous cover that could have been anything from history to a cookbook. He glanced up at Yohji's entrance and frowned. "I thought I locked that."

Yohji refused to let the lack of enthusiasm for his presence put him off. "You must have forgotten."

"Oh." Ran turned his attention pointedly back to his book. "Be sure to lock it on your way out then."

The request didn't seem particularly arduous, and Ran had forgotten to include an important detail. Yohji felt a distinct smirk spread across his face as he nodded easily. "Sure."

Some time passed. Ran turned the page of his book and then glanced up at the blond who was still stood in the centre of his room. "You appear to be on the wrong side of the door, Yohji."

Yohji shook his head and watched with a certain amount of amusement as Ran's face creased into a frown. "I'm on the same side as you. You want me out of your room, you have to leave too."

Ran turned another page of his book with barely concealed irritation. "Stop playing games and tell me what you want Yohji."

"Do you really think sitting alone up here and brooding will solve anything?"

Ran's glare darkened. "You seemed to find it a suitable past-time not too long ago."

Yohji snorted, refusing to rise to the bait. "And who refused to pay any attention and wouldn't let me sulk and generally wallow in self-pity?"

The redhead looked positively affronted. "I do not wallow."

Yohji chose not to comment and instead made his way across the room to sit opposite Ran. The redhead had become totally still, so Yohji gently reached out and eased the book from Ran's hands, closing it and placing it on the floor. The paler man stared out of the window, resolutely refusing to meet the green gaze. With a sigh, Yohji reached out again and gently brushed back some stray crimson strands from Ran's face.

The redhead tensed at the touch, as gentle as it was and closed his eyes. Yet he made no move to jerk away, so Yohji let his fingers softly trace their way back along the other man's cheekbone until he was cupping Ran's cheek. Exerting no real force, Yohji turned the smaller man's face towards his own and found the task easier than he'd been expecting. Abandoning the playful tones for something more serious, Yohji broke the silence between them once more. "Why won't you talk to me about this?"

Ran's shoulders slumped slightly, a sure sign of defeat that was proven when the redhead opened his eyes to look at Yohji with a gaze of amethyst that seemed infinitely lost. "It's not your problem. I don't want you to get involved in something that you can't do anything about."

Yohji used his thumb to gently stroke the other man's cheek, noting how Ran almost seemed to lean into the gesture. "It's Aya, isn't it? You somehow feel responsible for what happened to her."

Ran's breath caught in something close to a sob, but the redhead had more control than to let it pass his lips. Blinking, he lowered his gaze from Yohji, but made no effort to turn back to the window. Slowly, haltingly, Ran began to speak in a voice so quiet Yohji had to strain to hear him despite his close proximity. "After the accident, I thought I could pay for treatment with the money my parents had saved. But the government seized all of the accounts and I had nothing. I was training to be a doctor, but was far from being able to earn any real money. And all I could think about were Aya and revenge. When Manx offered to pay for Aya's care in return for joining her organisation, I didn't even stop to think. I thought I was helping Aya; that I could live with the murder as I was ultimately helping save a life. But belonging to Kritiker is what got Aya killed and all I have left is the knowledge that I barely stop to consider what I'm doing these days. Who I'm killing. How many other lives I'm ruining."

Unable to think of a response, Yohji simply pulled Ran towards him and embraced the other man tightly. The redhead sagged against his chest, exhaling a deep and somewhat shaky breath. Pale white hands hesitantly made their way around Yohji's shoulders to return the embrace as Ran began to speak again. "I have dreams about her," he confessed. "I did even before, but now they're different. She won't listen to me; she tells me that she hates me. That I failed her as a brother and I should be made to pay." His voice dropped even lower. "That I don't deserve anyone else and that I'll always be alone."

"Then fucking stop shutting me out," Yohji exclaimed, tightening his embrace to take the sting out of his words. "How can you be anything but alone when you won't let anyone close to you?"

Ran turned his head to brush against Yohji's collarbone in that unconscious gesture that made the blond struggle for control. "You'll leave me. I'm a killer…"

Unable to listen to the torrent of self-abuse any longer, Yohji simply reached down and pressed his lips firmly against Ran's. The redhead paused for a moment in surprise, but thankfully took the hint to shut up and instead returned the kiss. He opened his mouth to Yohji, drawing the blond's tongue in with something approaching urgency. In response, Yohji moved closer to Ran, pulling the slender form tight against his own.

With a swiftness that almost caused Yohji to break off the kiss, Ran pushed the blond back hard into the corner where the glass of the window met the cool wall and all but climbed into the other man's lap. As Yohji fought to keep his thoughts in order, he became aware of hands making their way inside his shirt with one clear intent. As Ran's fingers brushed against Yohji's nipple, the blond positively arched into the redhead. He felt Ran's smile against his lips and set about returning the favour by separating the redhead from his shirt as quickly as possible. Once rid of the garment, Yohji broke off the kiss in order to lather some attention on the pale expanse of flesh in front of him.

Ran's hands pressed roughly into Yohji's chest as the pale man panted for breath. Already grinding his hips against Yohji's, Ran set about pulling off his companion's shirt. When that failed to win back any ground for the redhead, Ran simply continued to drag his fingers down; across the golden, toned abdomen and dipping down under the waistband of the blond's suddenly too tight pants.

That caused a reaction. Yohji broke off from tormenting a nipple with his extremely talented tongue to gasp at the sensation. Heavy-lidded eyes of emerald met Ran's equally lustful gaze and the blond slowly reached back up to reclaim the other man's mouth, paying particular attention to the kiss swollen lips. Ran returned the gesture, but continued his assault on Yohji's lower body, drawing open the blond man's pants and freeing his raging erection. As Yohji sighed at the release of what had been an increasing discomfort, Ran adjusted his straddling position slightly and drew one of Yohji's hands towards his mouth where he insistently began to suck and tease on the older man's digits; swirling his tongue around them and giving the occasional playful nip.

Yohji groaned, unable to keep silent any longer and used his free hand to attack the loose black pants that Fujimiya still wore. The redhead was very compliant, and between the two of them, they were able to remove the annoying article of clothing very quickly. It was with some amusement that the blond noticed a complete lack of underwear on the redhead; Ran had never particularly struck him as the type to go commando, but he wasn't complaining about this piece of luck. It meant one less layer to be removed.

Letting Ran rise up above him to help with access, Yohji pulled his fingers from Ran's mouth and reached to gently caress the tiny pucker of flesh between the toned cheeks of Ran's arse. Gently, in order to alleviate as much of the inevitable pain as possible, Yohji eased one finger past the tight ring of muscle and worked to loosen the constricting grip. Feeling a lessening of tension in the area, Yohji added a second finger and let the digits brush against the other man's prostate.

Ran let out a wordless exclamation and thrust himself back against the fingers, trying to increase the speed with which Yohji was moving inside him. Withdrawing in order to add a third finger, Yohji watched in rapt attention, as Ran's eyes fell closed and the redhead chose instead to focus all his attention on the sensations he was experiencing. Feeling the redhead was now ready, Yohji removed his hand completely and guided the other man's pale hips to where Ran was positioned above Yohji's hard and weeping cock. 

Feeling the first brush of the blond's cock against his entrance, Ran pushed himself down hard, forcing as much of the organ into him as possible. Yohji cried out at the tight, warm sensation that was enveloping his cock, and buried his face in the juncture of Ran's neck to muffle the sound. His cock twitched and Yohji tightened his grip on Ran's hips, intent on starting a rhythm.

Changing his angle slightly, Ran brought himself back down causing Yohji's cock to brush firmly against his prostate. Mimicking the other man's gesture, Ran too buried his face in Yohji's neck to quieten the moans that were spilling unchecked from his lips. The two moved against each other with increasing frequency, until Yohji felt himself beginning to lose control and released one hand from its hold on the redhead's hip to instead grasp the other man's dripping erection. Trying to keep his thoughts together enough for his new task, Yohji began to pump in time with his increasingly ragged thrusts.

Ran came first in a gasping explosion that seemed to sap the redhead of all strength. He collapsed against the blond, moaning in satisfaction as Yohji climaxed moments later and stilled beneath him. Neither of the men spoke, too concerned with bringing their panting breath under control. Finally Ran raised his head from its resting place on Yohji's shoulder and caught the other man's mouth in a soft kiss, their lips barely brushing over each other. Yohji raised a shaky hand to brush back the dark red bangs that had stuck to Ran's face and let his hand simply rest amongst the soft hair. As Ran slowly pulled back from the kiss, Yohji offered the man a radiant smile. "Do you really think after something like that, I have any intention of leaving you?"

Ran eyed the other man carefully, before snorting gently and lowering himself back into Yohji's waiting embrace. "Idiot," he muttered with no real anger. "As if that was the only reason for it."

Yohji's grin widened and he fought back a laugh. "Well I knew you wouldn't be able to resist my gorgeous body much longer, but it was still a hell of a way to make a point." Brushing the crimson hair some more, Yohji placed a kiss onto the crown of Ran's head and gathered up the man in his arms. "You seem exhausted, recent activity notwithstanding. Let's get you into bed; you need to sleep."

Ran mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like a protest, but he didn't resist being carried over to his bed. Yohji arranged the man so he seemed comfortable, then stepped out of his pants and joined the redhead in bed, pulling Ran in close to his body. Ran opened bleary eyes at the movement, looking somewhat confused. "What are you doing, Kudoh?" he mumbled.

Yohji smiled and pressed another kiss against the man's forehead. "I said I wasn't going to leave and I meant it. Now get some sleep."

A faint smile flickered over the redhead's face as he complied.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The elder of the two Weavers, a heavy-set man of around forty, was the first to reclaim his senses. Upon finding himself suspended in a darkened area by a multitude of lines, he immediately turned his gaze to the three Hunt members who were currently illuminated by a circle of candles inside of which they were sitting. Legion was the first to notice the man's change in state and a slow, humourless smile spread across his pale face. "Oh the tangled webs we weave, eh? Makes a wee bit of a change tae be the one caught up in the threads, doon' it?"

The weaver chose not to respond, instead turning his attention to his immediate surroundings. The air had that particular quality that comes from being underground, and there was a distinct lack of any air movement, leaving the place muggy and uncomfortable. Movement directly in front of him caused the Weaver to squint in that direction. His eyes now rapidly adjusting to the gloom, the man was able to make out the shape of his fellow Weaver, bound and suspended in an identical manner. The other man was straining desperately at his restraints, intent on somehow freeing himself.

Back inside the flickering candlelit circle, Pan smiled. "It would appear that your colleague is in possession of slightly better night vision. Do you think that asking him a few questions would be more successful?"

At that moment there came a loud rumbling from somewhere above. Both Weavers stilled as the sound of screeching metal echoed from a distant point, accompanied by a gust of hot and heavy air that caused the candles to flicker violently. Mika glanced down at the flames and sighed. "Not long now."

Turning to the younger of the two Weavers, Pan smiled disarmingly. "Alors, where are my manners? I don't believe I've learnt either of your names yet. What should I call you?"

There was a moment of silence as Pan and the younger Weaver fought a war of glares. Finally, the suspended man sighed and looked away sullenly. "Weber. And he's Faden."

Mika giggled. "I just love the names they come up with." She fell quiet again after a warning glare from Pan.

Taking over from his French colleague, Legion stepped forwards and addressed both captive men. "Okay gents, here's the deal. You tell us exactly what your orders from Arachne were and we give you a quick and merciful death. Bullet through the brain." To illustrate his point, Legion waved one of the guns taken from the two Weavers at the pair. "Can't get fairer than that."

The younger Weaver snorted indignantly at the offer. "What the fuck kind of a deal is that?" he exclaimed in a voice that dripped sarcasm. "Why would we be tempted by some lame offer like that?"

His colleague sighed. "Weber, you're overlooking the obvious. That is supposed to be the appealing option. So if that's the carrot, imagine what the stick is."

Pan clapped his hands together. "Exactly! But perhaps the other alternative on offer needs a little illumination. Mika, if you would be so kind?"

With a nod, the youngest Hunt member stepped out of the circle and all but vanished into the gloom. Her footsteps could be heard ringing against a surface that sounded vaguely like concrete and echoed strangely in the darkness, suggesting an enclosed space of unusual dimensions. There was a brief clanking sound of reluctant metal moving, and then a low humming noise as a generator somewhere began to whir into action. Temporary lights flickered into action to reveal an empty underground station obviously in the middle of renovation works. Both Weavers were hung directly in front of the entrance to the tunnel, which emitted another low rumble of a nearby train.

"As you can both clearly see, this particular station is currently closed – hence the temporary generator powered lights and general thick layer of dust. Trains do not stop but instead continue straight through to the next station along, picking up considerable speed I might add. The next scheduled train passes through in just under five minutes so I suggest you get talking." Pan paused in his speech and then smiled again. "So let's start with an easy question; what have you been sent to do?"

"It can't be anything to do with Yue, you bastards can't influence his fate," Mika mused as she made her way back to rejoin the other two Hunt members. "So just who is your target?"

Another rumble; this time accompanied by another blast of air and the squeal of metal wheels against the tracks sent the younger Weaver into something approaching panic. "We're not here for Void. We're here to ensure that the telepath returns to Rosenkreuz."

"Sascha?" Mika exclaimed almost involuntarily. "What made them decide to recall Sascha?"

"With Void removed from the group dynamic Schuldig would have become increasingly rebellious, ultimately leading the entire group away from Esset."

"I'm beginning to detect just how the little redhead may have pissed those old coots off," Pan remarked dryly. He studied the young Weaver appraisingly. "And just how are you to ensure this particular little plot thread?"

The rumbling of the approaching train was growing louder, causing Weber to raise his voice in order to be heard. "We have to prevent the Oracle from gaining an uninterrupted vision of what will happen. He's the key. He's the one who will cause Mastermind to seek death."

"You're trying to set them up?" Mika made a sound of disgust. "And just how do you intend for Crawford to screw over Sascha?" There was a moment's silence, then the girl's eyes widened. "Oh my god…" Spinning away from the two suspended men, Mika began to hurry towards the platform exit. "We have to leave now. We have to get to Crawford and stop him from being a completely insensitive moron."

Legion laughed. "You're about twenty years too late there." Sighing, he glanced over to Pan and passed the Frenchman one of the purloined weapons. "We got what we came for, let the arachnid have his reward."

Pan nodded and levelled the gun at the younger Weaver. A shot ran out and the man's body twitched before falling completely still. The Frenchman regarded his work for a moment and then turned to face the still silent Faden. "We have to go now, mon ami. By the way, I'd watch out for the light at the end of the tunnel if I were you."

The trio crossed the platform and switched off the lights, leaving the remaining Weaver with only the flickering candles as a source of light. As the train approached, another blast of air caused the flames to flicker violently and blew all but two of them out. Straining at his bonds, the man became aware of a growing light casting his shadow upon the tracks that stretched out in front of him. He turned his head to look over his shoulder and saw an approaching light that was rapidly growing in size.

The three Hunt members paused as a brief scream rang out, that was cut off sharply and replaced by the screeching of brakes. Legion shook his head and continued on his way to the surface. "Now there's one bitch of a cleaning job for the morning shift."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Opening her eyes seemed to bring a wealth of information that she wasn't ready to take in. With a faint frown, Aya closed her eyes again and tried to take in as much non-visual information as possible.  Warm sunlight on her skin; soft cotton sheets that were of far too high a quality to be from a hospital; likewise a soft mattress and complete lack of the strong antiseptic smell of a ward. Instead there was the faint scent of cigarettes and the sound of a television playing nearby. Aya opened her eyes again.

A familiar face that she never thought she'd see in the waking world greeted her. "Morning Schätzchen. 'Told you I'd get you out of that boring hospital, didn't I?"

Aya's face broke into a delighted smile at the sight of the redhead lounging at the foot of her bed. "Sascha! How …"

Raising a finger, the German winked at her in a conspicuous gesture. "Sorry, Schätzchen, but around here I go by the codename Schuldig. Can't have everybody getting to find out my real name now, can we? You can still call me Sascha, of course, but just when I know there's no one around to listen in."

Eyes wide, Aya nodded her agreement. "Why do you need a codename?"

Schuldig laughed and leaned in closer. "Ever read comics? All superheroes need a codename." He paused as if in consideration and then snapped his fingers together. "In fact, now that you're here with us, we'll have to come up with something cool to call you. See if you can think of anything, but don't rush it. This is a name you're going to be stuck with."

Aya nodded and immediately began to cast about for a name that she could use. It was while she was thinking that a tall, dark-haired man with glasses entered the room. Aya started in surprise at the unfamiliar face and clutched nervously at the sheets. Schuldig noticed her discomfort and turned to the newcomer with a roll of his eyes. "Would it kill you to crack a smile, Crawford? You're making our guest feel unwelcome."

The man turned to look at Schuldig with a face that was carefully kept free of any readable expression before glancing back at Aya and inclining his head politely. "I am Crawford. It's good to finally see you awake. How are you feeling?"

Aya blinked in surprise at the man's measured tones before a smile broke out across her face. "I'm fine," she replied before adding with a giggle. "You remind me of my brother."

Schuldig sniggered and waved a hand at Crawford dismissively when the man glared at him. "Oh relax, it's a compliment."

"Hn," Crawford responded and turned his attention back to the girl on the bed. "If you find you need anything while you are settling in here, please do not hesitate to ask. My other colleagues, who will no doubt introduce themselves soon, and I would be only to happy to help."

Aya smiled warmly at the man. "Thank you Crawford. That's very kind of you."

Crawford nodded his head again and left the room. Aya promptly dissolved into delighted laughter. "Oh my god! He's like Ran with glasses!"

Schuldig watched the girl with amusement. "I take that to mean his whole emotionless façade is a complete waste of time with you around? How interesting. I've never met anyone who could interpret that man. This should be fun."

The pair shared another conspiratorial look before breaking out into laughter.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Warm breath playing along the nape of his neck was threatening to stir him into wakefulness. Ran frowned and buried his face deeper into the pillows, aware of a low laugh as the source of heat beside him stirred. Long, graceful fingers began to comb through his crimson bangs, gently tugging at the strands in an effort to affect some kind of response. "Come on beautiful, I know you're awake." Determined not to respond to the voice, Ran continued to turn his face into the cool cotton.

Another quiet laugh as the body beside him shifted once more, the redistribution of weight causing the mattress to roll Ran's body against a naked form and the awaiting embrace. Skilled hands swept a teasing trail down the redhead's side and over his stomach as a pair of warm lips brushed against Ran's neck and along his jaw-line to his ear. A small moan escaped the pale man almost involuntarily and he felt the chest he leant against shake in an amused chuckle. "No use pretending to sleep, Ran." Teeth skimmed his ear lobe, gently tugging on the elegant earring embedded there. "You're fooling no one." To emphasise the point, the hand resting against his stomach swept lower, causing Ran to gasp.

Giving in at last, Ran opened his eyes and turned to meet the amused green gaze of the man who lay next to him. Long, waves of honey blond hair were shaken away from his partner's face as he smiled warmly at the silent redhead. "Good morning beautiful."

"Yohji," Ran acknowledged with a vague frown.

Seeing the expression on his lover's face, the blond rolled his eyes in exasperation. "What kind of a greeting is that?" Moving in closer to the smaller man, Yohji nuzzled against the side of his neck. "And here I was thinking you were a morning person."

Rolling onto his back, Ran glared up at the man who now leaned over him in a manner that was clearly meant to be intimidating. "You cannot be expecting sex _again_, Yohji," the redhead commented with a fair amount of exasperation himself. Seeing the widening smirk on the blond's face was an answer in itself and caused the amethyst eyes to narrow further. "You're not going to change my mind," Ran warned, keeping his voice carefully emotionless.

Another chuckle escaped from Yohji as he leaned down to brush his forehead against that of the man lying beneath him. "Sure about that, Ran?" He breathed.

"Yohji, I-" Ran's words were abruptly cut off as another mouth descended on his own. Finding himself lacking the determination to dissuade the other man, the redhead stretched out his body, bringing as much of it in contact with the blond's as possible. As Yohji let his mouth drift back down along Ran's throat, the redhead turned his head to the side, giving the blond better access to his neck. Amethyst eyes lazily travelled over the contents of his room before settling on his bedside clock. "Fuck!"

Yohji let out an exclamation of surprise as the previously very willing redhead suddenly pushed the other man away and began to scramble out from the bed. "What? What are you doing?"

Hurrying into a loose pair of cotton pants, Ran looked at Yohji with something approaching exasperation. "The Koneko, Yohji. My shift starts in thirty minutes." Moving swiftly, the redhead perched on the bed long enough to give the blond a brief kiss before heading towards the door. "I need a shower. I'll see you on my break."

Yohji watched the other man disappear through the door and collapsed back amongst the sheets. A slow, satisfied smile spread across his face as the blond reflected that although having beautiful redheads waking up confused in his bed was vastly entertaining, it didn't hold a candle to waking up in the redhead's bed with said occupant asleep beside him.

Deciding Ran's idea of a shower sounded quite appealing, Yohji dragged himself out of bed and set about locating his scattered clothes from the previous night. He had just finished pulling on his shirt when Ran reappeared, dripping wet and wearing only a towel. On seeing the blond out of bed, Ran paused and frowned slightly. "You didn't have to get up. Your shift isn't until later."

"Lying in bed alone isn't nearly as much fun," Yohji informed the other man with a grin. "Plus I want to get the shower before Ken wakes up and uses all the hot water." Crossing the room, Yohji ruffled the man's damp red hair. "See you later, beautiful."

A long, luxurious shower was only marred by the hammering that began on the door as Ken started to lose patience. Luckily, that just so happened to coincide with the last of the hot water, so Yohji was perfectly willing to relinquish possession of the bathroom. The angered yell that reached through the door of his room only served to increase the blond's amusement. Humming various songs under his breath, Yohji dressed and got his hair into something approaching order. Then he headed down to the kitchen to grab some coffee still singing to himself. "_The tap of my heart when it skips a beat, can't feel no pavement right under my feet. Up in my lonely room, as I'm dreaming of you, oh what can I do…_"

Practically bounding into the kitchen, Yohji was greeted by the sight of a very suspicious looking Omi. Throwing the chibi a wink, Yohji continued on his way to the coffee machine, still singing to himself.

"You're in a very … energetic mood this morning," Omi remarked. "I'm guessing it has something to do with the reason why Ran came running down here with seconds until the start of his shift."

"You're very observant, Omi," Yohji replied as he poured some steaming coffee into a mug and headed over to the table to join the young blond. "And I'm energetic because I'm in such a good mood."

Omi quickly held up a hand. "I don't want to hear anymore. Show some consideration for my innocence."

Yohji laughed and slid into a seat. "And how do you expect to become anything other than innocent if you refuse to listen to the facts of life?"

Omi sniffed primly. "I'm sure I'll manage somehow." The youth paused to glance at the clock where it hung on the wall and bit his lip. "Ken's late. Ran is going to be so mad with him. Do you know what's keeping him?"

Yohji shrugged and took another drink of coffee. "Disorganisation?"

Pounding feet broke off any further conversation as Ken blew into the room like the proverbial hurricane, pausing only long enough to shoot an evil glare at Yohji and mutter; "You're so dead," before running down into the shop.

Yohji watched him go in amusement. "How much says he's still alive in an hour?"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Clattering down the stairs only to be greeted by a glare of sub-zero intensity and an equally frosty "you're late" caused Ken to wonder just what he'd done in a former life to deserve this kind of luck. Or more importantly, why the blond bastard who'd stolen the last of the hot water never seemed to get into these messes. One look at the redhead answered that question and caused Ken to do a startled double take. "Oh my God!"

Pausing in the midst of wrapping a customer's selection of lilies, Ran frowned at the brunet's exclamation. "What?"

Raising a trembling finger to point at the older man, Hideka made his way over to join the redhead behind the counter. Waiting until the customer had turned to leave, Ken dropped his voice to a low hiss. "You slept with him! You and Yohji had sex!"

Fujimiya's frown deepened. "And what previously unused powers of observation caused you to deduce that?"

Ken snorted and turned to grab a watering can. "I've been laid before, I know that whole morning after expression." A sudden thought caused him to drop the can in alarm, causing water to splash all over the floor. Ken whirled back to face the redhead. "You didn't let Omi see you like that, did you?"

Ran put a hand on his hip, apparently increasingly annoyed by Ken's sudden powers of insight. "Like what exactly?"

Ken waved a hand in the pale man's general direction. "Like that! All afterglowy! Shit, think of his innocence! Manx and Birman are going to kill you for corrupting the chibi!"

Ran snorted and turned his attention to the account books. "You're paid to be a florist, not an idiot. Now get to work."

Ken opened his mouth to protest, but decided against it as he reflected that the only likelihood of him being successfully able to annoy the redhead without receiving physical injury would be if he were a tall blond who smoked like lung cancer only happened to other people. The athlete shut his mouth only to practically bite his tongue off as he was confronted by the sight of a girl whose assortment of hair colours appeared to defy the laws of both physics and hairdressing. "Can I help you with something?" he somehow managed to choke out past his surprise.

The teenager frowned and now looking past the multi-coloured bangs, Ken was able to see from her expression that she was obviously worried about something. "Is Yu-uh, I mean, is Yohji in? I need to speak to him."

Ken groaned internally, but managed to keep his expression polite. Another fangirl, and as it appeared that Yohji was quite definitely off the market, floods of tears were probably imminent. "His shift doesn't start until later, maybe you should stop by this afternoon?"

The girl impatiently shook her head, sending a flurry of blue, green and punk strands fluttering past Ken's eyes. "That's no good. I need to speak to him now. We don't have much time."

Ken frowned and tried to replicate the Fujimiya technique of dealing with unwanted females. "Well I'm sure whatever it is can wait until twelve. For now, either buy something or leave."

Ken realised he might have misjudged the girl when a handful was flowers were abruptly grabbed and shoved in his face as the girl ducked past him and thundered up the stairs. Spinning around, he could only marvel at her speed, but still managed to get his thoughts in order. "Hey! You can't go up there! That's private!" Figuring that Ran was probably already as pissed at Ken as the redhead could get while maintaining a safe blood pressure, the brunet gave up any pretence of working and dashed up the stairs after the teenager. "Oi!"

He arrived in the kitchen in time to see both Yohji and Omi start up from the table in surprise as the girl all but launched herself at the elder blond. "Yue! They're setting him up! It's all a trap and Odin won't let us intervene! You have to help me!" Grabbing hold of both the man's arms, the girl looked desperately into his face. "It's Sascha, Yue. You have to help me save him."

Ken pulled a face at the shocked-looking man and spun his finger in a circle next to his head. "Sorry, Yohji, she just barged on up here. I'll show her out."

Pulling his gaze away from the teenager clinging to him with apparent difficultly, Yohji blinked blankly at Ken for a moment before shaking his head. "Don't worry about it, Ken. I'll sort this out. You better head back down to the shop before Ran comes after you."

Frowning slightly at the blond's reaction, Ken had no choice but to nod and head back down the stairs. "Sure, if you think you can deal with her." As he made his way back into the shop, Ken revised his comparison of his and Yohji's relative fortunes. If being able to needle Ran with impunity meant having to deal with bizarre girls like that, then Yohji was welcome to the privilege.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Throwing Omi a reassuring smile, Yohji gently prised his arms free of the grip on them and took hold of the girl's elbow. "Come on, we can talk someplace a little more private." With a firm grasp of the teenager's arm, Yohji steered the suddenly compliant girl into his room. Once inside, he turned to face the Hunt member with a steely glare. "I must admit I'm surprised to see you in real life. Is this going to result in another kidnap attempt?"

Dejected, the girl slumped onto the bed with an unhappy expression. "I was afraid you'd still be hung up on that. It wasn't what you think. Odin just wanted to find out if your power was active now or not. You were always supposed to escape."

"And what about the guards I killed? Were they just there to add a touch of realism to the charade?"

The teenage looked puzzled. "What about them? They weren't like us, they were just some hired thugs with no talents." Chewing on her bottom lip, the girl cocked her head to the side. "Just how much have you forgotten, Yue?"

"It's Yohji now," the blond snapped. "And I hardly think it's polite to call me by my name when you haven't even offered your own yet."

"Oh." A hand was duly extended with all the accompanying formality. "I'm Mika. You and Sascha used to look after me in Rosenkreuz."

Yohji took the hand briefly. "Charmed. What's Rosenkreuz? And who the fuck is Sascha?"

The hand moved with startling speed to whack the blond around the back of the head. "I can't believe you have to ask me something as basic as that! The two of you were practically joined at the hip and now look at you! Can't even remember your best friend!"

Yohji glared at the girl. "There's an awful lot I can't remember, it seems. If you even want to stand a chance of getting me to help, you better start from the beginning."

Mika puffed out her cheeks and exhaled noisily, using the gesture to propel herself back onto Yohji's bed where she bounced idly, staring at the ceiling in apparent concentration. "Even I don't know the very beginning. I was brought to Rosenkreuz when I was five and you and Sascha had already been there a while. Rosenkreuz is a place in Germany where people like us are trained to use our talents for the good of the organisation who found us and paid for our education. That's Esset and we're supposed to become their little minions. You and Sascha were infamous as the two of you refused to pay any attention to all that crap and just did whatever the hell you wanted. The only one who could keep Sascha in line was a guy a few years older than him – an American called Crawford. You were still a force to be reckoned with, and as Sascha's room and classmate, were around him an awful lot more than Crawford."

"Wait a minute," Yohji interrupted. "What talents were we supposed to have?"

Mika waved a dismissive hand at him. "I'm getting there, you told me to start at the beginning." Pausing, she began to play with her hair, twisting together some strands of green, lilac and red to form an eye-watering mix. "Sascha was a telepath and everyone assumed you were as well, just that your talent hadn't matured to the point where it could be actively used. Crawford was a pre-cog so of course everyone knew there was no way Sascha was ever going to get anywhere past drooling from afar, but the guy never seemed to lose hope. Then Asuka showed up and you were smitten. Love at first sight and all that. She was a pre-cog as well, but unlike Crawford had no regard for the rules. That was when we found out that you weren't telepathic. Even with the two of you as a couple, you still seemed completely unable to read her mind. The elders got really interested in you from that point, but they weren't the only ones. You also attracted the attention of Odin."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Schuldig started in surprise when Crawford abruptly dropped onto the empty space on the couch beside him. "Shit, Crawford, make some noise once in a while. I thought you went out with Nagi and Aya."

The American snorted, his eyes fixed on the television. "They vanished into some arcade to play video-games. I gave them some money and left them to it."

"Oh." Schuldig drifted into silence and when the American didn't volunteer any further conversational gambits, turned his attention back to the television. After a while he glanced over to find the pre-cog watching him intently. Raising an inquisitive eyebrow, Schuldig looked at the American suspiciously. "What? Do you want something, Crawford?" When the American didn't answer Schuldig sighed and made to rise off the couch. "Fuck it. I can't be arsed to start playing these games with you."

A restraining hand on his arm prevented the German from leaving the room as planned. Unsure whether he was more surprised or annoyed with the older man's behaviour, Schuldig spun back to face Crawford and demand just what the pre-cog thought he was doing. The American had taken the time to also rise to his feet so when the redhead was finally looking directly at him again, the distance between their faces was only a few inches which Crawford silently closed as he caught Schuldig's lips with his own.

Caught completely by surprise, Schuldig froze and in doing so completely gave in to the Oracle. Had he broken away in those first few moments he might have retained enough of his senses to demand an explanation for the current situation, but instead an almost forgotten fragment of a love-struck teenager was allowed to surface. And once in control, this fleeting sensation was impossible to push back down into the darker recesses of his mind once again. Schuldig began to return the caressing brushes of lips against lips and open his mouth to Brad's demanding tongue.

Hands circled around the German's waist, pulling him forwards and pressing him against Crawford's body. With increased urgency Schuldig reached upwards to run his hands through the soft strands of dark hair, getting just enough of a purchase to pull the American's face closer and tilt it as he began to probe the mouth that all but invited his entrance.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yohji raised an eyebrow. "Odin? Let me guess, he's the old fart that also keeps cropping up in those weird ass dreams you guys like to use for communication."

Mika nodded. "He's the leader of our organisation, Hunt. Way back, Odin was one of the elders, but he attempted to seize total control of Esset for himself. The other elders tried to have him killed, but with no success. He went into hiding, but surfaced every now and then to recruit Rosenkreuz students who showed unusual and powerful talents. He'd already deprived Esset of Legion and Pan, so naturally when they heard that you were the next one in his sights, Esset began to keep a really tight leash on you.

"Needless to say, that only caused you and Sascha to become even more determined to escape. The two of you hatched a plan to escape Rosenkreuz using an underground system of tunnels that had been written off by flooding years before. Originally it was intended as a way of transporting wine from an old vineyard to the main building, but the entire vineyard area was considered unsafe and a subsidence risk due to the number of underground springs and so forth. The two of you reckoned you could hide out in the tunnels long enough to evade the inevitable patrols before making your escape through the vineyard and hitch until you reached Munich."

Yohji snorted and shook his head, reflecting that it appeared a mind capable of rational risk assessment was not something he lost during his encounter with mental reprogramming. "Where did it start to go wrong?"

The teenager sighed, contracting in on herself and curling into a ball. "The elders decided to use Crawford to stop you."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The journey from the lounge to Crawford's bedroom had been a halting one at best, due in no small part to the lack of attention either man was paying to his surroundings. Schuldig supposed that Crawford's pre-cognition was to thank for the lack of expensive objects collided with, but found himself mildly annoyed that the American was still capable of showing enough foresight to manage such an action. He made a mental note to do something about that and set about removing Crawford from the suit that currently prevented Schuldig from progressing any further.

Underneath the crisp and creaseless fabric was a toned body that Schuldig had been waiting years to get his hands on. He seized his chance now, running his hands over every sculpted inch, marvelling at the softness of the other man's skin. "Brad," he started to say.

Another swift and somewhat bruising kiss broke off any further attempt at speak from the German. He opened his green eyes to stare dazedly at the American's face, filled with a single minded determination that was causing the twisting knot low in his abdomen to virtually sap all the other strength from his body. Firmly, yet with an unexpected gentleness, Schuldig found himself pushed back onto Crawford's bed as the man loomed over him. "You talk too much," Brad informed him in a low voice. He then sealed the distance between them with another kiss that slowly broke off as the dark-haired man began to trail a slow but searing trail down his neck. Schuldig was dimly aware of fingers deftly opening his shirt and slipping towards the waistband of his pants, but Crawford chose that moment to lathe his tongue across the redhead's nipples and all thought effectively left the younger man's mind.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"It was pretty much accepted by the elders that their only chance to keep the two of you at Rosenkreuz would be through Sascha's infatuation with Crawford. They may have considered trying something similar with Asuka, but it soon became clear that she had every intention of leaving with you. So they turned to the one option they thought would work.

"Crawford approached Sascha in private and told the telepath that he'd seen a vision of the future involving the telepath that had concerned him. He said that although Yue's fate might be beyond the eyes of the Delphic Unit, Sascha's own future was not. Should Sascha attempt to escape with Yue and Asuka the telepath would be caught and killed. Crawford had been instructed to show serious concern for Sascha's future and of course, with Sascha already so besotted with him, seeds of doubt began to form in the telepath's mind." Mika broke off to look at Yohji with a pleading expression. "You have to understand how much Crawford meant to Sacha. Plus what teenager is fully prepared to die? You were little more than kids; this was way out of your league."

Yohji narrowed his eyes, unwilling to let the young girl's distress influence his emotions. "I'll reserve judgement until I've heard the end of this, thank you. I take it this means Sascha sold his two friends out to save his own neck?"

"As far as I know, everything went as planned until the three of you entered the tunnels. Schuldig told you and Asuka to wait in one of the underground storage rooms while he went on to check out the route ahead. Then he brought the Esset guards to your exact location. You and Asuka obviously heard them approaching, for the two of you began to barricade yourselves in, but you misunderstood their intentions.

"Instead of trying to force their way into the room, the Esset guards boarded it up from the outside. Schuldig was sent to watch and listen as his two friends were essentially going to starve to death."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Schuldig was trying to force his thoughts together for long enough to form some kind of response to the hands and mouth that were currently roaming over his body with a precise and thorough regard for every one of his weak spots, but each time he came reasonably close to regaining enough control to allow him to do something other than the generally writhing and gasping actions, Crawford would locate another previously neglected area and attack it mind-blowing attention to detail. Wondering if perhaps Crawford had been secretly hiding telepathic talent all these years or if he was just simply really, really good at sex despite his ice-block image, Schuldig was finally able to summon up enough co-ordination to remove the American from the suit pants he was still somehow wearing, despite the German's very naked state.

Even that small achievement apparently merited a retaliating gesture from Crawford as the man began to kiss Schuldig senseless once again. Strong hands ran through the German's hair, caressed his face and traced the tendons in his neck along to his collarbone. From there they descended to Schuldig's arms and tightened their grip, pinning the German firmly against the mattress. Looking at Crawford in confusion, Schuldig was met with a gaze that burned with more emotion than he could ever remember the American showing as the older man glared at him. "Stay," Crawford commanded in the same tone as earlier before descending towards the redhead's straining erection.

Despite the earlier order to remain silent, Schuldig was unable to stop the wordless cry as he felt a warm and wet tongue lap at the pre-cum gathering at the tip of his cock. His whole erection pulsed in response and Brad swiftly drew the entire organ into his mouth. The sensation of the American's tongue as it formed unseen patterns across his overly sensitive skin was almost too much for the telepath to bear and he felt his thoughts slowly drift apart as he gave into concentrating purely on what the other man was doing to him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"I don't know how long Sascha was made to sit outside that room, listening to the weakening cries of his two best friends, but Esset decided that none of you were being made to suffer enough for your attempted desertion. Melmoth himself came down to where you were imprisoned to inform you of the new bargain. You would be released as soon as one of you was successful in killing the other. He informed Schuldig that when his telepathy informed him of the death of either one of you, he was allowed to leave his post but until then he could not leave on pain of death." Mika's voice trailed off as the teenager sat up again on the bed to study Yohji closely, perhaps looking for some sign of sympathy or understanding. "You don't know how lucky you are not to remember any of this, Sascha's had to live with this guilt for eleven years."

Distant dream-like images of dank and dripping tunnels were flitting through Yohji's mind and the blond suppressed a shiver as he fixed the girl with a gaze that he hoped was resolute. He had a nasty feeling that his discomfort may have shown through regardless of his actions and so turned away from the imploring gaze that followed him around the room. Crossing briskly over to the window, Yohji grabbed a cigarette from the pack on the windowsill and sparked up, drawing in the much-needed smoke. Exhaling as he gently tapped the cylinder against his ashtray, Yohji forced his voice to stay neutral and kept his gaze focused on the view from his window. "I don't think you've finished yet. Tell me exactly how it ends."

The pause that followed was so long that Yohji had to turn and check Mika was still in the room. She was, and still sat on the bed turned away from him, her head hanging down. Finally she raised her head and turned to face him, the expression on her face some where between pitying and exasperated. "Isn't it obvious what happened?" she asked in a voice so quiet that its trembling almost went unnoticed. "Sascha couldn't take it anymore and drove both you and Asuka mad. You attacked each other and you won. You killed Asuka. Sascha then wiped your mind, not wanting you to know what you did and Esset came in to mop up the remains. Asuka's body was disposed of, Sascha was renamed Schuldig and assigned to Schwarz along while you were permanently reprogrammed to be the personality you had become in that cell. The elders named you Void and sent you to join your former best friend so he would always have a reminder of what he had done to deserve his new name."

Yohji swallowed hard and stubbed his cigarette out with more force than he'd been intending. The slim stalk broke under the pressure, causing the contents to flutter gently down onto the wood surrounding the ash tray. Turning back to the teenager on the bed, Yohji swiftly decided to move the subject matter onto something not so closely related to him. "You said Sascha was in danger. What's going to happen to him that's so bad?"

Mika chewed her lip and shifted on the bed, obviously uncomfortable. "Crawford's going to sleep with him."

Yohji let out a snort of humourless laughter. "Isn't that what the guy's been wanting all along? Let them screw, I fucking hope it was worth everything he did."

A pillow bounced off Yohji's chest as the girl on the bed furiously began to hurl items at him. "You don't get anything, do you?" she all but yelled, tears collecting in her eyes. "Crawford's a pre-cog you idiot! Don't you know what's going to happen? Don't you remember why pre-cogs are told never to sleep with telepaths?"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Schuldig felt as though his entire world was going to end when Brad removed his mouth, leaving the German's cock throbbing painfully in the comparatively cool air of the bedroom. Remembering the earlier command not to speak, Schuldig was none the less unable to prevent his groan of disappointment. That soon changed to another intake of breath as well-lubricated fingers began to press against his opening. Almost unable to cope with the sensation, the German squirmed against the fingers that moved inside of him, unsure as to whether he wanted them out or simply as deep inside him as possible. Then they brushed against his prostate and Schuldig instinctively decided that fingers were not nearly going to be enough. He needed Brad inside him and he needed him now.

Feeling the fingers withdraw from the enclosing tightness, Schuldig wrapped his legs tightly around the American, drawing him closer. He felt Brad's hard and ample prick slowly entering him and was able to do little other than draw another ragged breath. The ears rang with the pounding of his blood and the mingled breaths as the American slid inside him. Warm exhalations of breath played against Schuldig's perspiring skin as Crawford began to start a rhythm.

Schuldig heard himself groan in pleasure as the force against his prostate returned with much greater strength than the American's fingers alone had been able to manage. He was only aware of the other man. Crawford's heavy breathing in his ears; his warmth as he moved against him, on top of him, inside of him; the hands that closed around his erection. But even that wasn't enough. He wanted to be inside of Crawford like the man so was completely inside of him. Unable to achieve that with his body, the German reached out with his mind only to find his attempt blocked once again by those damnable walls.

Crawford's cock twitched inside of him as the American approached his release and the German felt something tremble in the man's mental barriers. Working purely on instinct, Schuldig renewed his attempt even as he forced Brad to move harder and deeper within him.

Brad came moments before Schuldig with a shuddering sigh and that split second was all the German needed. In that moment of orgasm, the pre-cogs barriers had fallen completely and the telepath was inside the other man's mind.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Force of Habit: Chapter Twelve

//_Sometimes I'm everything you've ever asked God for_

_And more but recently I've asked myself what for_

_If there's no feeling left then I can't see the view_

_This lack of motivation tells me this is true_

_I'm drowning inside of you_

_We have to cry, like we've never cried before_

_We have to die like we've never died before_

_Hesitation, separation, rolling dice all day_

_Try to find the options but they strayed along the way_

_Knock me down then lift me up confused beyond belief_

_Demoted back to Hell again but there I find release_

_Nothing seems impossible I dwell on self abuse_

_If you decide to kick the stool I'll tighten up the noose_

I find, I find release// 

SOUNDISCIPLES, End of an Error

Those who forget their mistakes are doomed to repeat them. It was the standard modern history drivel that had been drummed into Schuldig like every other European school-going kid for as long as he could remember. Perhaps that was why he found his current situation so fucking amusing. He had always thought his mistake had been his unwillingness to give his life up for that of his friend, but it turned out it had been interpreting the actions of a certain pre-cog as being due to concern for Schuldig. And like the most pathetic kind of idiot, he'd fallen victim to the man again. But this time he knew it. In that moment he'd seen the whole of Crawford's mind laid out before him.

With that had come the discovery that his life had never been in danger due to the escape attempt. On the contrary, the Delphic Unit had hazy images of the German successfully making his way to Berlin, thereby proving that Yue too would have gotten away from Rosenkreuz's clutches. But he'd stopped them all, had effectively destroyed the one who had been his best friend and caused the death of Asuka for nothing. For eleven years of guilt and working with a man who didn't see him as anything other than a useful tool. The lack of any emotional ties to the redhead in Crawford's mind shouldn't have surprised the German after everything else he'd seen in there, but for some inexplicable reason it still hurt.

He hadn't even bothered to get angry with the other man, knowing that expecting any kind of emotional response from Crawford was futile. Instead, he had silently gathered up his things and left the apartment without another word. No one tried to stop him; Aya and Nagi were obviously still asleep and Farfarello was locked up as per usual. He'd made it all the way down to the docks and smoked his way through half a packet before the reason for his easy escape chose to make itself known.

The echoing ring of approaching footsteps was not enough to merit turning his attention away from the smouldering filter in his hands. The unmistakable click of a safety being released from a gun caused him to pause for a moment, before raising the cigarette again to his lips. "How the fuck did you find me?" he asked, keeping his face firmly facing the sea.

There was a sigh from behind him. "You haven't even noticed yet, have you?" Crawford said in a tone as free from emotion as ever. "You can't hide from me as we're still linked. The bond between a telepath and pre-cog is permanent."

Schuldig snorted and flicked the glowing remains of his cigarette into the water. "Still sounds like an awful lot of effort compared to GPS." There was another pause before Schuldig pulled another cigarette free from the packet. "Planning on shooting me, Crawford?" he asked idly. "It would certainly be one way of preventing Void from completing the task."

"So would simply excluding you from this assignment," Crawford responded. "Which happens to be precisely what I have in mind."

The German let out a humourless laugh. "That is somewhat of a lousy idea considering we're surrounded by Weavers. Do you really think the spiders are going to let you start spinning your own web?" Through the connection in his mind to the American, Schuldig was able to sense as Brad looked around and noticed the silent figures that surrounded the pair. There was a rustle of fabric as the gun raised to the back of the German's head was lowered and then put away.

Almost instantly the pair were surrounded by the Delphic Unit's operatives. "Crawford," one spoke up in a tone that made the American sound positively overemotional. "It is the orders of Janus and the Delphic Unit that we ensure your presence at the following address tonight. There you will be presented with the chance to re-obtain Void and remove him from the unknown group. Should he fail to rejoin Schwarz, the telepath Schuldig will accompany us back to Rosenkreuz."

Throwing his final cigarette to the ground as he rose to his feet, Schuldig smirked at the impassive faces that surrounded him. "You make it sound so tempting, I think my colleagues may find motivation hard to come by." Stepping around the American without so much as a glance at the Schwarz leader, Schuldig stretched his arms casually above his head. "Well, it appears I should home and get some sleep before all the fun starts." Crawford made a move towards the telepath, but Schuldig dodged it easily using his faster reflexes and continued with an unhurried step back towards the apartment. Behind him, the Weavers began to follow at a discreet distance, but the American remained down by the docks. Schuldig left him there.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A quiet knock at the door gave Yohji the required split second to throw his cigarette out of the window before Ran entered the room. The redhead must have noticed the smell of cigarette smoke, but chose not to comment on it. Instead he fixed Yohji with a questioning stare. "Your guest just left. Any inclination of telling me what it was about?"

Yohji grinned without humour and shifted his position by the window, giving the other man room to come and sit by him. "Not really."

Ran nodded as if to himself as he made his way over to join the other man by the window. Keeping his eyes carefully observing Yohji's face, Ran reached out and brushed a stray blond strand behind the other man's ear. "In that case, how much effort is it going to take to force some information out of you?"

Yohji arched an eyebrow in surprise at the redhead. "Planning on seducing the answers out of me, Ran?"

The other man snorted slightly, but kept his hand gently playing with the wavy strands of blond hair. Yohji felt his eyes begin to close at the soothing, gentle tugging sensations the man was causing. Warm breath drifted across his cheek as Ran leaned in close enough for the blond to feel the redhead's lips brushing against his in an almost caress. "I always thought that was more your style," Ran replied. "I was actually planning on sitting here with a sympathetic ear should you feel inclined to use it."

A wolfish grin spread across Yohji's features as he opened his eyes again to find the other man's face practically touching his own. Bringing his own hand up to bury itself in the soft crimson strands and pull Ran's face the final few required millimetres, Yohji deepened the feather-light brush of lips to something more substantial. The redhead responded with more pressure of his own before opening his mouth to admit the blond.

Yohji's questing tongue revealed in the unique flavour of Ran's mouth before the redhead pulled slowly backwards and broke off the kiss. "Still don't feel like talking?" Ran enquired as his fingers crept up to the collar of Yohji's shirt and began to play with the buttons there, twisting them and letting them fall from his grip. Gradually the fingers slid from the fabric to the skin underneath and traced lazy patterns idly across Yohji's collarbone.

Looking at Ran in suspicion, Yohji fought back the response his body was desperately trying to achieve. "For someone not intending to seduce me, your actions could be easily misconstrued."

Ran smiled again. "Maybe I'm just horny."

Yohji laughed. "Now I know you're trying to seduce me into talking. Either that or you're the latest one to have your personality reprogrammed."

A roll of amethyst eyes and another quiet snort answered the blond as the other man continued to play idly with Yohji's shirt. "You just seemed troubled," Ran said at last, his voice neutral and eyes firmly fixed on the fabric he was twisting and sliding through his fingers. "I thought maybe if you talked about whatever's wrong it would help. But if all you want is someone to help take your mind off things, that's okay too."

Yohji felt his eyebrows draw together slightly as he gently slid his hand under Ran's chin and tilted the pale face so that he was staring directly into those incredible violet orbs. "Aren't you forgetting something?" he asked gently. "What about you? What do you want?"

Ran paused. "I just want you to be happy," he said at last, breaking off his gaze as he did so as though unsure of the response such an answer would cause.

Yohji smiled and moved in to kiss the other man again. "For someone who acts so cool and aloof, you really are a romantic at heart, aren't you?" A hand whacked the back of the blond's head, but Ran seemed too involved to actually break away and form a real answer. The blond let his hands trail slowly down from their grip in the crimson strands to entangle amongst the soft cotton of Ran's shirt before slowly sliding the buttons out of their fastenings. Yohji felt Ran shift closer as his fingers began to explore the man's pale skin and concentrated on pushing Mika's warning to the back of his mind.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The strong sense of disorientation must have been responsible for the extended amount of time it took Ran to realise that he was dreaming. Not that the bland interior of a lift was the usual setting for his sleeping mind. On the rare occasions he recalled his dreams, they always involved his sister or the faceless victims of his blade. So he studied the mirrored walls with great suspicion, unable to remember where he had seen a lift like this before. From the reflections of the lift's highly polished sides, Ran could see he wore his assassin gear, but even that detail failed to help him fix the location in his normally impeccable memory.

The lift shuddered slightly, indicating that Ran had arrived at a floor, even though the panel above the doors remained blank. With a chime the doors slid open to reveal darkness so thick it almost seemed tangible. A waft of cold air, heavy with the damp smell that comes from being underground reached the redhead's awareness and not seeing any other option, Ran stepped slowly out of the elevator. The floor was uneven underfoot and the redhead squinted down through the gloom in the hope of keeping his balance. While thus occupied, the doors slid shut again leaving Ran in darkness.

Unwilling to simply stay put in such an environment, Ran turned back to where the elevator doors should have been and reached out a hand to locate the call button. Instead his hand found only air. Frowning, the redhead turned to face his original direction and, not seeing any other option, began to make his way along the corridor.

The ground didn't become any smoother as Ran walked further along and rather than continue to stumble, he reached out a hand to brush against the wall for balance. Even through the leather gloves he wore, the redhead could tell that the wall was no smoother than the ground and out of curiosity, removed one of his gloves to run his fingers lightly over the surface. The questing digits encountered cold stone, damp from seeping rainwater and patches of muddy earth that crumbled at his touch. Ran withdrew his hand with an expression of distaste on his face before sighing quietly and replacing his hand. Putting his glove back on now would simply ruin the leather and he had no intention of continuing to stumble around so the wall would have to guide him.

He had gone no more than a few steps however when a noise ahead of him drew Ran up short. The distortion caused by the echoes of the enclosed space made the original sound hard to discern and the redhead froze completely, not wanting to move before he identified the possible threat. He didn't have to wait long; it appeared to be a fairly rhythmical, if somewhat slow, beat interspersed with a fainter noise that sounded off-key and caused his hair to stand on edge. It only took Ran a few moments to recognise the noise as that of a badly rusted door banging against its doorframe.

Relieved at having found a possible exit from his current location, the redhead began to make his way forward. His eyes appeared to finally be adjusting to the gloom and so he was able to move slightly faster and with more confidence over the uneven ground. The door was up ahead, a collection of broken boards indicating that at some point in the past this particular portal had been boarded up. Possibly due to the apparent instability of the underground tunnels, Ran mused. The whole place looked as though any minor shower would cause major subsidence.

The redhead reached out a hand to push the door open and peered into the darkness on the other side. A shuffling, scraping sound alerted him to another presence and as Ran squinted into the gloom, he was disquieted to find himself on the verge of panic. Clamping down firmly on the emotion, Ran slowly edged into the room. There was a figure standing in one of the corners, little more than a black shape against the darkness and for some unknown reason, Ran felt it best to draw as little of the stranger's attention to himself as possible. Even though there was no movement or other indication to show any awareness on the figure's part, Ran found himself moving as slowly as possible.

There was a flicker of movement in the general area of the stranger's wrist as a whispering noise filled the room. From out of the darkness snaked a multitude of wires, their thin strands wrapping around Ran and forcing him to his knees. Even once he'd been forced to the ground, the net around the redhead continued to tighten, making Ran gasp for breath.

Footsteps and an amused chuckle caused his eyes to snap upwards once again. A nightmare from his past looked down on him. "None of you ever seem to learn," Void remarked in much the same tone of voice as used for discussing the weather. "All of you, so pathetic and powerless, nevertheless seek to control me. It doesn't work that way. Only one who exists outside the webs can truly influence them. Anything else is mere delusion."

Ran tried to force himself to calm down and keep his expression neutral. "You don't exist anymore. In fact, you never really did. This is all in my mind."

An almost imperceptible movement of the wrist and the wires around Ran began to cut through his leather coat. The redhead hissed involuntarily, but was in no doubt that Void had heard his reaction. The blond leaned closer, a golden stream of hair sliding smoothly over one shoulder. "This is indeed in your mind, but even a normal mind can't block me out. I have always been here. I am the essential part of his existence. Yue, Yohji, call him what you like, but it's still nothing more than a shell for me. You can try to shut me away, imprisoned behind blocks, but I'll always find a way to break free."

"You mean you're what Schwarz tried to block from Yohji's mind?" Ran's mind tried desperately to keep up. "But then why wasn't there any sign of you … whatever you are?"

"Oh I've been around, making my presence known. But I've been subtle – passive if you will, for even I can only achieve so much without direct control." Straightening up again, Ran's captor examined his entangled prey. "I must confess to not wanting to kill you here. After all, you were the one who freed me and as such I am in your debt. Besides, you're in store for something far more interesting than any messy death I could cause here and now."

The figure was suddenly gone as if he'd never even been there. Ran's bonds tightened for a moment before falling to the floor, the redhead along with them.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

He'd left the redhead there, sleeping peacefully. Even now a large part of the blond's conscious mind wanted nothing more than to sneak back into the Koneko and lie down beside the man. But Yohji couldn't do that, no matter how much he wanted to. 

"Do you really think anyone cares that you've made a life for yourself here? That they'll honestly not decide to simply get rid of your little boyfriend-come-bodyguard? And however good he might be, he's still normal. Blind luck allowed him to survive against you once, how long do you think that luck will hold? Are you willing for his death to be on your hands when you have the chance to prevent it? Come with us now and we'll leave him alone. The redhead has lived out his usefulness to us, and it's up to you to ensure he doesn't become an obstacle."

Mika's words repeated themselves endlessly in his head, the dark intent behind them seeming so at odds with the teenager's wide-eyed and innocent expression. But he had no reason to doubt that people capable of blowing up a hospital would see his own feelings as anything other than superfluous. 

His fingers itched for a cigarette, but Yohji simply pushed them deeper into his coat's pockets and concentrated on walking. This was something he had to do. He was not going to let his friends get hurt on his account. Mika had seemed to think that explaining his past would somehow win him over to their side, but the teenager had been mistaken. Past loyalties aside, Yohji had no intention of lifting a finger to help someone he didn't even remember. The betrayal thing didn't even come into the matter. As far as he was concerned, Yohji had no more loyalty to the past, his only hope lay in his future. And that was why he refused to see Ran get hurt on his account. He'd find a way to sort this mess out and then return to the redhead when it was safe. Hopelessly naïve and optimistic perhaps, but that was the way things were going to be and damn anyone who wasn't willing to go along with his plans.

Yohji broke away from that train of thought with an almost physical wrench, shaking his head quickly as if that would help send his thoughts on another direction. It was something that he was beginning to be worried by; this constant assurance that things would work out just the way he chose – forced or not. It went beyond simple cockiness into something darker and somewhat unnerving. He wondered if this was some aspect of one of his prior identities resurfacing, but hurriedly changed his thoughts again. Thinking that kind of thing was only going to encourage these unsettling feelings. Plus he'd decided that whoever he'd been previously had obviously been given a fair shot at things and messed up. Chance over: make room for the new kid.

This wasn't exactly shifting his mental train of thought, Yohji reflected wryly and he removed one hand from his pocket to run through his hair, brushing it back from his eyes for all of a few moments before the honey strands fell forwards again. Why was it whenever you specifically tried not to think of something, your thoughts wouldn't remain on anything else? The blond pulled a wry face to himself and replaced his hand in the overlarge pockets. Through the material of the lining, Yohji's wrist lightly brushed against the edge of the bulge in the small of his back where he'd placed Ken's gun. He'd thought the weapon would help reassure him on some level, give him some semblance of power in this situation, but the cold metal refused to warm to his body's temperature and caused his stomach to contract whenever he let himself dwell on its presence.

Some half-hidden instinct made the blond slow his steps and he raised his gaze to study the featureless warehouses around him. He had no real recollection of the industrial area, and found the lack of distinctive landmarks confusing. But that was probably why he'd been told to come here, Yohji thought sourly. The last thing an insane assassin group is going to do is hide somewhere in plain sight. Good guys hid in flower shops and let the psychos worry about central heating and running water. Even so, he was still able to instantly spot the figure that stood in wait for him. "Has anyone ever mentioned that such colourful hair might hinder your effectiveness as an assassin?"

Mika pulled a face as she left her slouched position by one of the warehouses. "Considering you were supposed to see me, the whole question is rather obsolete at the moment, isn't it?" Pausing as she stopped in front of the taller man, Mika chewed on her lower lip for a moment, her forehead lightly creased. "I didn't think you were going to come," she admitted.

Yohji's eyes narrowed. "You made it very clear what would happen to Ran if I didn't. Don't even think about pretending I'm here for any other reasons than keeping him safe. I couldn't care less what happens to people I don't remember, even if they didn't betray me."

Something flickered through the teenager's eyes as she stepped away from Yohji, regarding him in a completely different manner from before. "The other's are waiting for us. We don't have much time."

Yohji raised an eyebrow, inwardly thanking Ran for having been such a hostile bastard at first. Even though the redhead had certainly thawed out, his legacy of chilling glares and cutting remarks were proving invaluable. "And what is it that we're in danger of missing? My welcoming party?"

Instead of responding with the expected sulk, Mika's expression suddenly seemed to be sorrowful, before she forced her features back into a more neutral arrangement. Yohji felt a sudden stir of unease at what he'd got himself into in the light of the teenager's unexpected display of maturity. Turning away from the blond, Mika shoved both hands into the fluorescent pink fake fur jacket she wore to clash with her hair and began to walk away. "You'll find out," she said. "Come on."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

One look at the arriving redhead's face told Ken all he needed to know about Ran's current state of mind. Hurriedly gulping down the mouthful of rice, the athlete pushed his chair back and fled the kitchen; leaving Omi watching the Weiss leader with much the same look as a rabbit staring down approaching headlights. When there was no immediate demand for his return, Ken sped up his pace until he reached the sanctuary of the shop.

Back in the kitchen Omi regarded the older man with extreme caution. "So you've heard then," the blond commented. "I didn't think Birman was going to tell you herself."

Blinking at Omi's opening, Ran slowly turned to the young assassin with a blank expression. "What was Birman going to tell me?"

Omi opened his mouth and then closed it again, obviously searching for an answer that wasn't going to antagonise the other man. Ran bore the extending pause with an unchanging gaze. Finally the youth ducked his head and focused intently on his bowl of rice. "They've finished clearing out the hospital basements. They've found Manx – unconscious but otherwise stable and also the central computer systems. Birman called to say that Kritiker's OS will be back up and working in a matter of hours."

Another slow blink as Ran digested this information and concluded that what he had heard still did not explain Omi's current state of nerves. "And?"

"And that's how long you have to make sure that Yohji isn't anywhere they can find him. The first thing they've been briefed to do is take him into custody … they didn't say where."

Ran nodded to himself. "So we only have a few hours before they can monitor our computer usage again? That's good. I need you to get online now."

It was Omi's turn to blink as he gaped at the calm reaction of the redhead standing in front of him. "But … aren't you going to say something about Yohji having to leave?"

A derisive snort answered Omi. "There would be little point in that seeing as he's run away of his own accord. But we still have time to find him." Ran glanced towards the stairway. "If you can coax Ken out of whatever corner he's hiding in, tell him to get ready for a mission."

"How?" Omi spluttered. "How do you honestly think we're going to find him in the middle of Tokyo?"

An almost feline smirk spread across the redhead's features. "Because I bugged him," he replied simply.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Something was going on. That much was pretty obvious from the amount of noise going on outside her room, Aya reflected, but she still didn't have a clue what it could be about. Glaring at the wooden door that blocked her view of the passageway, Aya cursed her atrophied limbs yet again. Why did she have to spend so much time hanging on for her absent brother's occasional visit when she could have met Sascha? She could have woken up long ago and set about rebuilding her life, a life her brother had seemed far too busy to worry much about. Tugging on the faint mental link she had established with the orange-haired man who had finally saved her from the boredom of her self-enclosed prison, Aya noticed with some concern that something didn't seem quite right with the older man.

When the door to her room finally opened to admit the redhead, there was nothing in his outward expression to indicate any problems. Throwing a wink, he breezily sauntered over to her bed and lowered himself onto on corner, crossing his legs and leaning back on his elbows as he tipped his head to look at her. "Wie gehts Schätzchen? You called?"

Aya watched the display with a stony expression, not convinced in the slightest. "You're upset," she said bluntly. "You're upset and you're hiding it. Why? What's wrong?"

The German shrugged and let himself fall back against the mattress. "Nothing I didn't bring completely on myself. I have a tendency to act a little impulsively and it always ends up biting me in the arse. Still without it I'd have a much less interesting moniker."

Aya thwapped the man with one of her pillows. "Idiot. Don't ever let me catch you talking like that. You keep putting yourself down, but you won't convince me. You got me out of that hospital when even my brother gave up on me."

Sascha raised an arm to try and fend off the attack. "Verdammt, you're vicious! That's some killer instinct you've been hiding Schätzchen."

Aya abruptly broke off the assault with a giggle. "Imagine what that says about your credibility, being beaten up by an invalid teenager."

Sascha glanced at Aya and rolled his eyes. "I never could resist the dark-haired ones." With a groan, the German swung himself back into a sitting position and tossed his hair back over a shoulder. "But anyway, what's up? I heard you calling."

Realising that she wasn't going to get anything else out of the man on that particular subject, Aya switched back to her original topic. "What's going on? It sounds really hectic out there."

Another feigned groan as the redhead nodded with theatrical sorrow. "Schätzchen, you have no idea. Your room is a haven, trust me."

Aya made a threatening pose with the pillow. "Don't play coy and answer the question. What's going on?"

Sascha sighed and turned his gaze up to the ceiling. "Some business has come up and the four of us have to go out tonight. None of us want to leave you alone, but we have no choice. It'll only be for a couple of hours."

Aya pulled a face. "And you're leaving me in here with only a charred lump of plastic that used to be a stereo for my amusement? What kind of sadists are you?"

Sascha grinned. "Why don't I bring the TV in here for you? It'll be worth it just to watch the expression on Crawford's face when he sees it's gone."

Aya smiled back. "Let me guess; everything has to be in its exact place and nowhere else? He really is just like Ran."

Sascha rose to his feet, turning his face momentarily away from the girl as he moved towards the door. "So it sounds as if you're already well versed in ways to wind the guy up. I shall leave it in your capable hands." He threw a final wink and a smile over his shoulder as he opened the door. "The television's right on its way, Süsse."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

He hadn't really thought about what he'd been expecting for the Big Badass Headquarters. Lots of futuristic computers perhaps, all Imperial Stormtrooper like with that wizened old guy sat in some big Sith Lord throne. Or maybe just a whole lot of cobwebs and chains, illuminated by flickering candlelight and generally creating spooky shadows in which the rest of the little bunch lurked. The empty warehouse was a definite disappointment, Yohji reflected, though until now he'd never really considered himself a drama queen.

Striding along the vast expanse of concrete flooring with Mika a few steps in front, Yohji silently followed the girl up a flight of stairs and into the overseer's office. And sitting behind a mundane desk in a bog-standard swivel chair was the old guy who'd been caused so much irritation lately, looking for all the world like some middle-manager. To one side stood the two younger men, but there was no sign of the final woman who had appeared in his dreams. Mika obviously noticed Yohji's faint frown and hurriedly spoke up. "Verdandi can't be with us in person, but she can occasionally join us through the medium of dreams."

Yohji nodded. "Gotta be cheaper than conference calling, I guess."

The seated man cleared his throat as he rose to his feet. "Welcome Yue. I believe you have already met Pan and Legion, but allow me to introduce myself. I am Odin."

Yohji nodded slightly, pointedly ignoring the outstretched hand. "Don't call me that. The name's Yohji. Now let's get this mess sorted up so we can all be on our merry little ways. You guys keep screwing with me and I want you to stop it. I want you to leave me and those close to me alone. There's nothing that I know or have that could be of any interest to you."

Behind Odin, Legion shook his head and put his face in his hands while his companion winced. Odin however simply smiled and let his hand drop back to his side. "Self-deception is an amazing thing, is it not?" he commented lightly. "Even in the light of overwhelming evidence to the contrary, we can still believe that we are completely normal. That nothing is wrong for as long as we pretend. But even the blindest of us must open our eyes at some point. Can you really say that you have no idea why we could possibly be interested in you?"

Yohji opened his mouth to fire off some offensive reply, when something made him pause. Memories of the abortive kidnap attempt surfaced in his mind. The ease of escape until he'd found Ran's beaten form and had lost all control of himself. Yohji's gaze drifted back to Odin, who was watching the blond with an unpleasant smile.

"Rather easy escape, wasn't it?" Odin supplied, echoing the other man's thoughts. "And yet it wasn't through untrained or incompetent guards. No … rather events just seemed to come together in a useful series of coincidences. I suppose it could be put down to a fluke of timing. But that hasn't been the only time. Everything seems to just happen in your favour, doesn't it? You're just always in the right place at the right time."

Yohji frowned and shrugged his shoulders, trying to dismiss the uneasy feeling inside. "It's not like I had anything to do with that."

Odin smiled faintly before stepping around the desk to face Yohji directly. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the wooden edge. "Really? Then let's look at your escape from Schwarz in the first place. You spare the life of a man who has the power to destroy the mental blocks inside your head and then can't even dodge when he uses the last of his strength to attack you. A slight lapse in judgement or simply another set of events working in your favour?"

Yohji snorted in exasperation. "Anything else you're planning to blame on me? Did they not have any valium left at the pharmacists for you? Got to be a conspiracy that I'm at the centre of. Or how about Beckham leaving United for Real Madrid? My fingerprints must be all over the contract."

Odin looked at the blond sourly for a moment or two. "Let's try another line of reasoning then. Answer me this; if the Delphic Unit can see into the future and influence the fate of individuals, why can they never see you in their visions? Why is your course of action impossible for them to plot?"

"I'm impulsive?"

"If that were all then at least the consequences of your actions would be seen. But you seem to exist by using that random factor or outside chance that exists in any situation. The kind of thing that is impossible to predict because there is no logic or reason behind it. Simply a freak occurrence. You exist outside any webs they may try and weave and because of that you alone have the power to destroy everything they are working for. If they cannot predict your movements, then they cannot protect themselves from you."

"Arachne knew it all along," Legion suddenly interrupted. "It's in your fucking name. Her and her sick sense of humour."

Yohji frowned. "My name?"

"After your mind was tampered with, they needed something to call you by. The Elders settled on Void based on the words of Arachne. But what she originally said wasn't in English, but German." Pan took up the story smoothly, without a glance at the man beside him who had once again fallen into withdrawn silence. "Yues Tod hinterliess eine schmerzliche Lücke. Rosenkreuz took it as a reference to the absence of any visible personality, but it wasn't that at all. It was a play on words, a really bad bi-lingual pun. Lücke … luck. All that was left behind was a painful luck."

Yohji shook his head slowly in disbelief. "You guys really need to get some sort of social lives. This sort of stuff just isn't healthy."

"Are you listening at all?" Odin demanded. "Don't you see your value to us? You have the gift of Luck, Coincidence … call it what you will. You can influence random chances to occur in a manner that will be the most benefit to you. If there is only a one in a million chance of something occurring, your gift will ensure the probability that it happens to you. With training you can control just what you influence, and to what degree. This is why you cannot return to Esset. You will be our means of destroying that organisation once and for all."

"Think about it for a moment, Yue," Mika said. "When has something you really wanted not worked out the way you wished it would? Since you awoke in that hospital bed name me one thing that has not gone well for you."

Yohji glared at the girl. "I had to leave everything and come here. But if what you're telling me is true then I have no need to stay. I can simply walk out of here and you won't be able to harm me or Ran despite your threats."

Odin smiled and raised an eyebrow. "Ran? You mean your ardent admirer? Think back and tell me if you can promise with a totally clear conscience that you weren't manipulating that man into feeling for you from the very beginning. If the events that brought you together were anything other than yet another manifestation of your power." The Englishman paused and at Yohji's stunned silence smiled again. "Food for thought, isn't it? And let's go one step further, weren't you indirectly responsible for the death of his sister … the one person who could divide his loyalty away from you? Do you see how it all ties together? You don't belong with him and even if you were to return, he wouldn't accept you. You'll do nothing more than keep him a virtual prisoner, but of course he won't be able to realise that. Isn't love a noble thing?"

Yohji swallowed against the sudden sick feeling rising up through his body. "You're wrong," he objected.

"Am I?" Odin goaded. He paused for another moment and then turned to walk back to chair. "Well, you're here and you'll be staying for now. Anything you wish to ask that does not involve me and my colleagues dying in a variety of painful manners?"

Yohji thought for a moment. "Yeah. What sort of party pieces do you guys have if you're still not powerful enough to get things done without me?"

"I'll field this question," Pan offered calmly. "As you no doubt guessed, it's not that we lack abilities, but rather that even our combined gifts are still not enough to counter the somewhat omnipotent Delphic Unit. I myself am a breed of telepath. But I don't directly read the thoughts of others, but obscure them. Consider it a blocking effect combined with a strong sense of confusion in those of stronger ability.

 "My colleague Legion is also originally a telepath, but an unfortunate incident warped his power somewhat. He now channels the dead, but is unable to turn this ability off hence his occasional lapse into total madness. Also he doesn't like to touch other people, or go underground for long periods of time.

"And Mika is possessed of a rather interesting ability to distort time within a given field. As long as she has a medium on which to concentrate – she prefers sand for this, but any sort of pouring solid will do – she can speed up or slow down time."

Yohji nodded then jerked his head towards the seated Englishman. "What about him?"

Odin smiled. "Currently irrelevant, but I believe you will discover it in good time." He opened his mouth to add something, but stopped when a gunshot rang out nearby. The man frowned. "They're early." Odin rose to his feet and glanced over at Yohji. "You will stay in this office while we deal with the intruders outside. Should you not be waiting here on our return, I will personally disembowel that redhead of yours. Am I clear?"

Narrowing his eyes, Yohji nodded reluctantly. He watched as the four others silently filed out of the room before sitting on Odin's desk and pulling the gun from its resting place. He studied the weapon while his mind raced through everything he'd been told. The whole thing seemed ridiculous, but perhaps he shouldn't question such an advantage.

Yohji ran his fingers lightly over the barrel of the gun. If Odin was right about Yohji, it was high time to start seducing Lady Luck. A humourless grin twisted at the corner of the blond's mouth. Good thing he'd always been such a hit with the ladies.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"You put a tracer onto one of the buttons on his shirt? How the hell didn't he notice you doing that?" Ken asked, incredulity writ large on his features.

Ran threw the man a carefully controlled look. "He was distracted at the time." Not offering any further explanation, the redhead turned his attention back to Omi. "Has he moved?"

Checking with a small display that the blond stuffed back into a pocket, Omi offered a bright smile. "Still in the same warehouse. We're practically there." He gestured with a hand to a nearby building. "It's that one there."

Ken didn't look quite so thrilled at the sight of their goal. "You mean the one currently being approached by the four guys dressed in white? Are we going to need invites to this thing or something?"

Ran cursed under his breath and unsheathed his sword. "Be on your guard. Don't attempt to take them on directly, just cause enough of a distraction to stop them entering the place before I've got Yohji out of there."

Ken winced. "I hate it when things sound that simple. It always seems to be tempting fate to fuck us over."

Omi gave the older assassin a sour look. "Thanks for the pep talk, Ken."

Ken had the decency to look abashed and busied himself with checking his weapon as Ran broke away from the side of the building to head towards the warehouse. Omi watched the redhead go, before readying a selection of darts. "Come on Ken. And try not to do anything stupid."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Slipping into the warehouse unnoticed by Schwarz had been effortless. The quartet seemed to be more interested with simply observing the building. Ran soon guessed why when he noticed the welcoming committee he had amassed.

"Ah Ran, we've been expecting you," a distinguished older man with a discernable English accent greeted the redhead's arrival while the three other figures looked on silently. "I assume you're here to play the white knight in shining armour once more? Here to rescue Kudoh from the nefarious clutches of his past and prevent him from once more becoming tainted." The man paused and smiled. "Because that's what's really important to you, isn't it? Kudoh is your proof that there is a chance at redemption, a chance to leave a past saturated with the blood of the countless mass you slaughter under the pretence of righteousness. If someone like Void, who had fallen so far and left all traces of his humanity behind him, could break free from that past and live a normal life as just another normal person then surely you could also. If you could protect Kudoh from becoming Void once more then surely you could also retain some small part of who you were, the Ran who knew nothing of murder; of sins justified by cold hard cash. After all, you no doubt reasoned to yourself, Void was far worse than you could ever be."

Ran blinked, unable to find the words to respond. He as vaguely aware of lowering his guard and allowing the sword to come to rest uselessly at his side, but he couldn't focus on anything but the words that were being fired at him in an attack far cleaner than any he could have inflicted. A part of his mind was loudly protesting every venomous word that dripped from the older man's mouth, but another part of Ran, the self-destructive part, refused to do anything but keep listening. Almost anticipating every word before it came as if they were nothing more than the words he had accused himself of in some of his darkest moods.

"But that, my dear Ran, is where you're wrong. Void was simply that: a void. An empty shell remotely controlled by others. You are fully aware of each and every person you murder and yet you still do it. You have no claim on him, no right to project these futile hopes of escaping what you've become onto Kudoh. In any case, he's ours now. He was ours from the moment you destroyed the blocks. And this time, he'll be fully aware of each and every life he takes, all thanks to you and your meddling. Does that thought make you feel good? Or is it yet another burden you're going to add to your conscience? Either way, don't let it trouble you, my dear boy. You won't be alive to fully appreciate what you've done anyway." 

He was barely aware of Odin bring his pistol to bear on his face. His eyes relayed the information to his brain, but he was unable to form any further processes. Foremost in his thoughts was Yohji. Was this current situation really his fault? It sounded so ridiculous, but then again …

The sound of a shot brought Ran blinking back to his senses. Odin's gun lay unfired on the floor while the man cradled his hand and glared over his shoulder in the direction of the stairs. Following the other man's gaze, Ran saw Yohji standing at the top, a gun held expertly in his hands. "Lass ihn! Er hat nichts damit zu tun." Yohji clicked another bullet into the chamber and readied the trigger. "Nächstes Mal vermisse ich nicht."

Odin raised his hands and slowly stepped to one side, throwing a satisfied smile in the direction of Ran, who watched in shock as Yohji hurriedly descended the stairs to where the redhead stood. "Ran, alles in Ordnung? Bist du verletzt? Was? Was ist los?"

Shaking his head as he stepped away from the concerned looking blond, Ran tried to get his brain to focus again. "Yohji. I can't understand you. What are you saying?"

Yohji blinked in puzzlement. "Can't understand me? I only asked if you were injured. You're looking at me as if I've grown another head or something."

"You … you weren't speaking in Japanese. I didn't know what you were saying," Ran explained even as he moved away from Yohji again, unable to cope with being so close to the other man and not throwing himself into his arms.

"You've been speaking in German since you arrived here," Pan commented from his observation point in the corner. "I'm surprised you weren't aware of it."

Ran's earpiece suddenly crackled into life, making him jump. "Abyssinian, get your arse out here! We need back-up right now or things are going to get very messy."

Ran cursed under his breath before replying, perversely grateful for the chance to focus on something other than the situation he currently found him. "You were merely supposed to keep them distracted Siberian."

"Yeah, well try telling them that!"

"Understood, I'm on my way." Looking past Yohji to where the Englishman stood, Ran was disturbed to notice a smile on the man's face again.

"Leaving so soon, Ran? Don't let us keep you. You have a very important meeting to attend after all."

Noting the confusion on Yohji's face, Pan offered an explanation. "Schwarz have shown up to try and get their hands on you. You're housemates are currently outside trying not to get killed."

"What?" Yohji spluttered. "Why can't everybody just leave me alone?"

"You mean other than him?" Pan enquired with a nod towards the disappearing redhead.

Yohji swore and took after the man. "Damn it Ran, you're enough to drive anyone mad!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Schuldig wasn't sure quite what he felt when he saw the redhead appear, sword in hand and heading straight for Crawford. When Yue emerged behind him only a few moments later he realised it was resignation. Tinged with a hint of relief. Raising his gun he turned his thoughts towards the blond.

~Strange how events have a habit of repeating themselves, old friend, isn't it?~

Yue turned to face the German, his brow slightly creased in puzzlement. Realising the green-eyed man was one of the group attacking his friends he brought his gun to face the redhead. "Did you say something?"

~Thought it. The advantages of telepathy. It allows you and I to have a little private chat while the others scrap it out.~

Yue opened his mouth then closed it and frowned in concentration. ~What could you and I possibly have to talk about?~

~It's been quite a while since we were last able to converse with one another like this. I'm simply making the most of the opportunity. Wouldn't want to wait another eleven years, would we?~

The blond didn't look impressed, his thoughts tinged with annoyance. ~Oh yeah, and who's fault is that? From what I've heard this is all your mess in the first place.~

Schuldig allowed a small incline of his head. The fight continued around the pair, no one paying the slightest attention to the two men who stood staring at one another with barely the smallest movements. ~True enough. But then you'd have never got your hands on that little bodyguard of yours. I think I deserve a little gratitude for that.~

~I think you need to fuck off back to whatever hole you crawled out of.~

~Do you recall your words in that bar, Yue? As I sat beside you confessing my worst sins, my deepest betrayal? You said that my friend would have forgiven me. Do you still feel the same now you know just how unworthy of forgiveness I am?~

Almost unconsciously, Yohji stepped briefly to the side, avoiding the brawling Farfarello and Ken as they dashed past. His gaze never left the German's and his grip on the gun never faltered. ~Do you want me to feel sorry for you? To tut sympathetically over how much you've suffered? Give me a break. You brought this on yourself. You have no one to blame but yourself.~

The German's gaze glittered like hardened glass as his expression twisted. ~Oh I know that. This was my choice, my mistake. All because I believed the words of someone I thought cared for me. I chose to live rather than die with my friends. And I've paid for the cost of my survival. I am the guilty party. But now we find ourselves back in a similar situation and I have to ask myself if fate isn't trying to tell me something?~

~Enlighten me.~

~I'm talking about atonement. A sin is committed. The sinner is condemned. Then the sin is erased. It ceases to exist and the evidence that it was committed is removed. Is the sinner therefore still guilty? Only as long as the memory of the sin remains. He is the last witness, the final piece of evidence. I can't forget what I did and so as long as I remain, I am guilty.~ The German smiled faintly and threw away his gun. ~I'm tired of being guilty Yue. I want to be Sascha again.~

The shot rang out, somehow causing the other participants of the struggle to stop as all eyes turned to the falling figure of the telepath, orange hair streaming through the air as he gracefully tumbled backwards. Then the spreading crimson liquid dulled the vivid colour as Schuldig lay motionless on the ground.

Almost out of nowhere, people began to appear from all sides, dressed in the black uniforms of Esset. Ken was the first to notice them. "Shit, we can't deal with this number of enemies. We have to get out of here now."

As if Ken's words were merely the prompt required, Schwarz and Weiss split in all directions, as Esset continued to converge around the telepath's prone body.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Stumbling along as he helped support the heavily limping Ken, Omi looked towards the silent redhead with a troubled expression. "Who were those guys? I've never fought people like that before."

"Freaks," Ken spat. "That's what they are. A bunch of fucking freaks." He winced as Omi adjusted his grip and regarded his mangled thigh in disbelief. "I slit that guy's chest open and he didn't even notice. Not even adrenaline can block out that kind of pain."

Omi glanced at the display and then back at Ran once more. "According to this Yohji's standing still around the next corner. He might be injured or resting as he hasn't moved in some time."

"Injured," Ken snorted, mainly to himself. "The guy fires one shot after just standing there for an age taking in the sights. He could walk through a minefield without getting injured. Hey, Ran, where you going?"

Ignoring the calls from behind him, Ran unconsciously broke into a run as he turned the corner and came to a sudden halt. He hadn't had any real idea of what he was going to say to Yohji, Ran reflected. He'd just planned on opening his mouth and saying the first thing that came out.

Instead he stood silently, listening to Ken and Omi's approach before slowly leaning down and picking up the discarded shirt button from where it had been thrown. Turning it over carefully, he saw the metal glint of the tracing device he had placed there earlier. Ran folded his fingers around the object and spun to face the two other assassins. "We should head back to the Koneko. It won't take Birman long to show up once Kritiker's OS is running again."

Omi blinked. "But what about Yo-"

Ken quickly elbowed the blond, cutting him off before he could finish the question. "Leave it Omi," Ken hissed, noting the expression in Ran's eyes. "Let's just worry about getting back."

Ran nodded once and strode past the pair, taking the lead again. His clenched hands tightened and then loosened, letting the button fall to bounce once more on the concrete paving.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The three men stood watching as the plane was filled with its cargo.

"A job well done," Melmoth commented as he watched the comatose redhead be stored safely on board. "Once he reaches Munich we can transfer him directly to the ward at Rosenkreuz until he regains consciousness."

"Perfect bait for Void," Gil-Martin agreed. "Now that his power has awakened, it can only be a matter of time before he starts to seek out those who can help him control it. What about Schwarz in the meantime?"

Melmoth looked over to the small group who stood, or in the case of one member sat in a wheelchair, and observed the events. "Schwarz should develop nicely," he remarked. "This event has rid them of a very troublesome element."

"And we foresee no problems with the replacement," Janus added. "The girl is developing at a remarkable rate under Crawford's watchful eye."

"There's a strong desire for vengeance in her," Gil-Martin noted. "We can use that. She has no loyalty to anyone other than Schwarz. Not even her surviving brother. Thanks to Crawford's influence, she even holds him responsible."

The Elders fell silent, observing the events around them like the proverbial spiders at the centre of the web.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Aya blinked back tears and willed her face not to betray any emotion as she watched Sascha be carried away. A warm hand gently clasped her shoulder and she squinted up against the sunlight to see Crawford standing beside her, an identical expression on his face to the one she wore. "This isn't over yet," the American assured her in a voice that held no room for disagreement. "We're going to get him back."

Nodding, Aya dropped her head back to watch the aircraft and bit her lip. "And we're going to make them pay for taking him away from us," he added. Crawford's hand tightened in an affirmative squeeze before moving back to the pre-cog's side. They continued to watch in silence for a few more moments before Aya spoke up again. "I have a name now."

"Oh?"

Aya squinted her eyes again. "Leid. I want to be called Leid."

There was a pause, then Crawford's hand brushed against her hair. "Very well."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Odin regarded the people sat before him with satisfaction. "A job well done," he said. "Not only have we achieved what we came here for, but Schuldig will soon be in a suitable state in which to attempt to induct him into Hunt."

Mika looked less than impressed from her position between Pan and Yohji. "He's in a coma. Was that really necessary?"

"He's away from Schwarz and Crawford, so yes. I would say it was."

Mika's face darkened, but a restraining hand on her shoulder from Pan prevented her from voicing any dissent. With a curt nod at the group, Odin rose to his feet. "We leave for Europe in a few hours. I suggest you ensure you are all ready to travel."

With Odin gone, Yohji was the next to leave the room as he silently stood and headed out the door. Mika watched him go with an unhappy expression before turning to Pan. "Why'd you stop me?" she demanded. "Odin's gone too far, someone has to tell him that his plans are nuts."

"Odin is not the type you make your objections known to, petite," Pan answered. "He wouldn't listen to you."

"But Odin's not the only one who can lay a trap, lassie," Legion added as he moved over to join them. "As long as you've got a wee bit more patience than that pompous airbag, you've got the upper hand."

"But he's got Yohji," Mika pointed out. "He won't even speak to the rest of us."

Pan shrugged. "That doesn't mean he has Yohji's loyalty. The man isn't allied to anyone but himself."

"Yet," Legion interjected. "Isn't allied yet."

Mika's eyes suddenly widened and she smiled at the two men. "So we've got our work cut out for us, haven't we?"

Force of Habit: End

To Be Continued in Cat's Cradle.

Oh yeah, and before I forget: Translations

Yohji: Leave him! He has nothing to do with this. Next time I won't miss.

           Ran, is everything okay? Are you injured? What? What's wrong?


End file.
